It's a Wonderful Life
by Severe Cabbage
Summary: Near is fighting puberty, and Mello has a habit of taking stupid dares. Naturally, this leads to misguided seduction attempts, a proliferation of unnecessary emotions, and a growing attraction towards Mello's feet. Sometimes, it's hard to be a genius. MxN
1. Chapter 1

Hey, mates! So, I'm an unapologetic fangirl of the Mello/Near pairing, and I thought I'd try my hand at writing a somewhat-romantic scene between the two. I think I did a better job than I expected, and I had a lot of fun describing Near's rather disturbing thought processes. This fic also let me elaborate on the delighful horrors of a first kiss, which was brilliant because kissing is always described a bit too prettily for my tastes. This is also a Merry Christmas in boy-love form, so enjoy your holidays! Personally, I think Hannukah sounds more interesting that good old Jesus-mas, but we take what we've been given and I've been given an extensive Irish-Catholic family, so there you go. Heh.

VARNING: ze following fic contains ze boy love, ze kissing, ze swearing, and ze boners. Hem hem. Also, I do not own Death Note, some Japanese bloke does and he's done a smashing good job of it too. M'kay?

Christmas Eve had fallen over the English countryside with all the flair of a dropped slushball. The white Christmas the residents of Winchester had hoped for seemed to be highly unlikely; as of seven in the evening on December 24, the streets were mostly bare and the sky clear. Instead of great snowbanks blocking driveways and grates, the gutters contained only dissolving salt and the occasional schizophrenic hobo.

This letdown in terms of holiday cheer was especially disappointing to those that lived at Wammy's, the orphanage at the very edge of Winchester that was widely regarded to be full of either perverts, evil spirits, or some disturbing combination of the two.

In reality, it was simply inhabited by ingenious children, old men, and unapologetically alcoholic teachers, all of whom were gathered in the warm and toasty main room of the orphanage. Most of them were staring sadly out of the fogged windows, still holding on to a bit of hope that it would snow before Christmas morning reared its festive head.

It was rare for all the inhabitants of Wammy's to be seen together at any given time, and indeed this was an occurrence that could only be brought about by the holidays and Roger's iron, arthritic fist.

As was customary at Wammy's, the children and teachers had gathered to eat cookies and exchange small gifts in eager anticipation of the next morning. The children were mostly sprawled out on the floor or lurking within piles of cushions, chatting with their friends and casting shy glances at whomever they happened to admire on that particular day. The adults had pulled rank and secured the couches and chairs, and were clustered in similar but slightly more unsteady groups. Most of them were nursing mugs of heavily spiked eggnog and complaining of Christmases past to their uncaring and inebriated coworkers, occasionally glancing at the kids to make sure that their constant references to sex weren't being understood by young ears.

All in all, it was a touching picture. The fireplace in the far wall burned merrily, occasionally gaining a brighter flame when various objects were "accidentally" thrown into it. The younger occupants of the room had secured eggnog of their own, which was nearly guaranteed to be nonalcoholic. Some of them were admiring the towering Christmas tree that stood in the corner of the room, covered in decorations slightly less subtle than a hooker's underpants. These decorations included enormous multicolored baubles and tinsel, and the lights strung between the branches blinked on and off in red and green flashes sure to cause an epileptic seizure if stared at for too long.

The baubles in particular had prompted every "enormous balls" joke known to mankind, and there had been a near-emergency the other day when one of the younger children had attempted to eat tinsel in a move certain to destroy any chance of ever becoming the next L.

The presents were the best part, of course. Thanks to the heavy population of children in the building, there were far more presents than could be found under the average tree. Every so often, a child would shoot an excited glance towards the massive gift-pile, wondering desperately which ones would be worth the bother of unwrapping and which would be utter crap.

The least excited person in the room was currently situated near the selfsame pile of gifts, and might have been mistaken for a particularly lifeless Real Doll if not for his thin, pale hands, which occasionally darted out from the protection of his white sleeves to stack another playing card on top of the already large tower growing in front of him.

This boy, far from being filled with holiday cheer and nervous anticipation, looked as though given a choice, he would rather be sequestered in his room, permitted to ignore his peers as per usual. None of the children were sitting near him, both due to his reputation as a reticent bastard and also because, hidden behind the presents as he was, very few of them actually noticed his existence.

Near may have been the first choice for successor to one of the world's most brilliant people, but it was entirely possible that interpersonal relationships would continue to elude his understanding forever.

From his hidden position, he was currently observing what he regarded as the idiotic behavior of the masses. As his peers drank their not-spiked-at-all eggnog (and occasionally keeled over with no warning) and dangled mistletoe above each others' heads, he stared disapprovingly at them and wondered what amusement could ever be found in acting so ridiculously. Happily, the wide berth given to him by his fellow orphans meant that he was exempt from their stupid attentions.

"Hey, Near!"

Well, maybe not entirely.

The call had come from the other corner of the room, where a blond boy was nudging his ginger companion in the ribs and winking blatantly at the other boy, who was so engrossed by the DS in his hands that he allowed himself to be elbowed right onto the floor without breaking concentration.

"Sorry, mate," the blond said, immediately losing interest in his friend's plight. He looked over to Near again, a smirk of the finest, most delicious evil curling his features (which were NOT girlish, as he would insist to anyone who hinted as much).

Near looked over at the boy, repressing the weary sigh that so desperately wanted to escape his lips. "Mello?"

Mello's smirk widened, and he curled his fingers against the floor eagerly and leaned forward, making sure that his white-haired target would hear his every word.

"Do you want it to snow, Near?"

Near stared at him, trying to judge what sort of insult would inevitably follow his response. He drew a blank, and thus decided to simply proceed with caution.

"Not particularly, Mello. I'm not fond of the snow."

Mello's face practically split in half as he leaned even further over, causing the unfortunate Matt to grimace as the blond's arse was shoved into his face. "I can imagine why, Near. After all…"

Near internally winced. Nothing good was ever proceeded by an "after all…"

"…I expect no one would ever find you again if you went outside, Sheep Boy!"

Well, as far as Mello's insults went, that one had been fairly inoffensive. In fact, it hadn't even included one lewd hand gesture, which Near regarded as something of a Christmas miracle.

But, "Sheep Boy?" He didn't appreciate that name at all. Sheep were stupid creatures, of an intellect far less than his. And if one wanted to be exact, sheep's wool was actually slightly more yellow in color than his hair or clothing.

Stupid, colorblind Mello. He obviously couldn't deal with his own feelings of inferiority.

However, Near's cutting observation to himself lost some of its impact as Mello, sitting back, allowed his black shirt to slide over his stomach, revealing tanned hips and a swift glimpse of chocolate-patterned boxer shorts. Near blushed, wishing for the four hundredth and eighty-third time that

A: puberty had never forced its way into his previously-innocent soul and

B: that Mello wouldn't be so damn attractive. Even his navel was alluring. How was that even possible, he would like to know?

He then frowned at himself, realizing that his resolution to force asexuality on his hormone-riddled body was rapidly crumbling. Even three days of refusing to glance at any part of Mello besides his relatively average-looking feet hadn't helped.

Near, the ever-enigmatic boy genius, had a crush. It was shameful. And of course, it was on someone who hated his guts.

Near didn't hate Mello's guts. Well actually, he didn't know much about his actual internal organs, but the stomach that hid them from view was slender and muscular and he really wanted to ju—

Near brought the card in his hand, the Queen of clubs, down on the top of the castle so hard that the entire structure toppled into his lap. From across the room, Mello laughed the loud and derisive (yet somehow seductive) laugh that he had developed just for occasions such as these. If Near had been a weaker man, he would have blushed. Instead, he gathered the cards up carefully, placed them to the side, and started to twiddle his white hair like mad.

He really couldn't deal with this anymore. Mello would just have to be removed from his brain until puberty decided to stop ravaging his mind in such embarrassing ways.

He had even had a dream. About Mello. They had been wandering around a castle made of dice and drinking pink lemonade, and for some reason Mello was completely naked in this dream and Near had woken up to sticky sheets and a burgeoning sense of self-hatred.

Near was once more distracted from his miserable reverie by the sound of Mello's voice, which he would have compared to a choir of angels had he any basis on which to judge these things by.

It took Near a moment to stop focusing on the golden tones passing the other boy's lips and to actually hear what he was saying.

What he was saying was…pretty alarming.

"Alright, who wants to get under the mistletoe? Single file please, ladies and gentlemen…"

From his seat next to the blond, Matt uttered a spontaneous "ta-dah" and went back to his game.

There was now a small gathering around the black-clad boy, comprised of loud, excitable girls and a few meek boys with looks of delight plastered onto their faces. Mello produced a small branch of mistletoe from his jean pocket, straightened the battered leaves, and held it into the air. "Well, who's first?"

The lucky first was a curly-haired girl who pressed her lips to Mello's with a giggle, not realizing that Near, in his corner, was glaring at her with a gaze that could melt bedrock.

How dare she? Her hair was ugly, her face was unappealing, she probably had peculiar tasting lips, and she was kissing Mello. It was entirely unfair. Near, while not very attractive, would be much better at it.

Despite the fact that he had never, you know, kissed anyone. Ever.

Well, it was hardly due to lack of interest. He had people desperate to kiss him, a ton of them. If, of course, by a ton you meant the clueless but well-meaning Linda, who had not yet realized that her lack of male genitalia rendered her completely unappealing to the young albino genius.

Mello continued to receive admirers, gifting each with a delicate kiss that looked, from Near's viewpoint, exceedingly enjoyable and maybe even capable of causing spontaneous orgasm.

Of course, there was no way he could go over there and join the line of Mello-enthusiasts; Mello would either regard it as a deliberate insult or a fit of insanity on Near's part. He was more likely to punch him in the face instead of giving him the kiss he so richly deserved for putting up with these cursed hormones for so long…

But he wanted a kiss. As he watched the next blushing supplicant approach his crush (this time it was a dark-haired boy with an upturned nose, a blush overwhelming his features as Mello's lips drew nearer) he felt his toes curl up within his socks and nearly let a scowl mar his permanent poker face.

Then, as the two boys' lips met on the other side of the room, he really did scowl.

Suddenly, one of the girls who had already been kissed shook Mello's shoulder, saying, "Alright, now you have to kiss whoever we dare you to!"

Mello shrugged and winked cheekily at her, dropping his mistletoe for a moment. "Go ahead. Name your pick."

"Well…" the girl (her name was Anita, and Near mentally formed a TO DIE list with her name right at the top of it) said, pretending to think deeply on the matter, "you should kiss, uh…me!" She giggled, and received a prompt smack on the lips.

"My turn," Matt said suddenly from his seat next to the blond. He had gained his own small circle of admirers, but had cheerfully ignored them all in favor of his true love, Mario.

Now, Mello turned to look at him dubiously. "Since when do you care who I kiss, Matt?"

"I don't," the ginger replied, wrinkling his nose in anger as Bowser comprehensively kicked Mario's freaking ass for the fourth time that day. "But you shoved your arse in my face a while ago. I'm getting my revenge."

"Great," Mello sighed, scowling. "It just better not be Roger…"

Even Matt looked horrified by this one. "Nah," he said quickly, then pointed. "Just Near."

Near and Mello both nearly choked to death simultaneously, Near with delight and Mello with something that was almost certainly horror. "WHAT?! Matt, you bastard!"

Matt grinned to himself, having finally managed to pummel the ever-loving shit out of Bowser and horrify his friend in the bargain. "Come on, Mello. It's a dare. You'll let him do it, right Near?"

Near looked up, using every ounce of effort he possessed to keep that poker face strictly glued to his features. "If Mello wishes to kiss me, that is entirely his prerogative."

"Oh-ho!" Matt said laconically. "See Mello, he doesn't give a crap. Just do it."

"Yeah Mello, you can do it," said Anita the Bitch of Death, casting an adoring glance at the effeminate heartbreaker.

"Whatever," Mello muttered, looking as though someone had just taken it upon themselves to give him a peppermint enema in the spirit of the holidays.

Near watched Mello walk over to his hiding place, seeing the girlish hips sway in a manner that made him nearly rip out the curl of hair clutched in his right hand. He repressed the burning desire to lick his lips.

Mello sat down in front of him, crossing his legs in a casual manner that caused Near to swallow deeply and feel an aggravating tingle in the pit of his stomach.

"Okay, Sheep Boy," Mello said harshly, leaning down to stare into Near's slightly glazed eyes. "Tongue to yourself, understand?"

"Mello flatters himself," Near said with customary dryness, although to be quite honest he could have vomited with excitement right about then.

"I—shut up, Near!" Mello's eyes flashed, causing the tingle in Near's stomach to engulf rather a larger area altogether.

Then, those soft pale lips were parting slightly and heading towards his face and he was going to blush and he really hoped he didn't because that would just ru—

Oh, wait. He had no idea what to do. Purse his lips? Open his mouth? Close his eyes and hope for the best? He would be ashamed if Mello thought he was a poor kisser. Near was number one, after all. He had a reputation to keep up…

But all of sudden he didn't care because Mello's lips had met his and both his breathing and thoughts suddenly ceased.

It wasn't like he had imagined. Mello's lips were chapped and prickly but somehow soft, and his mouth felt wet and strange against Near's. Mello tilted his head fractionally, and his lips parted ever so slightly and Near could suddenly taste his spit, which was somehow both repulsive and hugely pleasurable. The vague hardness of Mello's teeth pressed against his own delicate lips for a moment as Mello's mouth sucked ever-so-gently at his, and then their mouths were pulling apart slowly and Mello's lips were shiny with saliva, _Near's _saliva, and he suddenly felt really strange and just wanted those lips to cover his again.

"Look, he's blushing!"

"That was really hot."

"Does he have a boner? I can't see."

Near realized that he was blushing, really blushing, and Mello was staring at him with the most unreadable look on his face. As he watched, the older boy raised the back of his hand to his lips and slowly wiped off the excess moisture of Near's kiss. The white-haired boy felt faintly offended, but as he was not really thinking clearly and did in fact have a raging boner (thank you, casual observer) he was far beyond caring about that sort of thing.

Mello remembered himself and glared once more at his rival, walking back to his group of friends and admirers as Near sat in a daze.

He had really kissed Mello. Mello had kissed him. Grudgingly, sure, but it had happened. And it hadn't just been a tiny peck on the lips; they had _kissed. _With, you know, their lips.

God, he really needed to just be alone with his thoughts right now. People were staring. So rude of them, couldn't they just go back to looking at Mello?

Mello.

Mello had kissed him and it had been strange and incredible and made his stomach feel fiery and uncomfortable.

Near watched Mello sit down next to Matt and whisper angrily to the redhead, probably about what had just happened, but Near couldn't care less because he had never felt so disconnected in his life.

Forget snow.

This was a genuine Christmas miracle.


	2. How to Be Popular

So, it seems some people actually wanted me to continue this fic!! Honestly, I'm flattered…and quite happy to do so, as I really enjoy writing this fic and attempting to make it a bit different than the usual Mello/Near romance. Not sure I've quite accomplished that with this chapter (oh look, it's confidante!Matt. What a bloody surprise) but I swear it's going to get less typical as time goes on. Anyway, hope you like this lovely second chapter. Tell me if you like the continuation, of course! And you know how you tell me these things? Through a—wait for it---through a REVIEW. M'kay? Please give me reviews, they are orgasmatastic. (-- is not a word)

Oh, and Happy New Year's!

Disclaimurrrr: I do not accomplish the owning of the Death Note. Alalalala.

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"Uh, Near?"

At the sound of his name, the white-haired young man turned to face his visitor. He was, most unusually, watching television, with what appeared to be a notepad perched precariously on his raised knee.

Matt, standing in the doorway, noted this with fascination. He then remembered his purpose, and walked into the TV room. "Near, Roger says for you to come see him when you have the time. Something about socks, I think. Eh…what are you doing?"

Near widened his eyes at the other boy, turning back to his television program. As the characters onscreen shared a passionate kiss, he jotted down something on his notepad. "I am observing the romantic behavior of typical human beings," he informed Matt, squinting at the screen as the two characters fell to the floor, a tasteful camera angle hiding anything of interest. "I find it most engaging," he continued, ignoring Matt's incredulous expression.

"You know, Near," Matt said in a highly amused tone of voice, "Soap operas are probably not the best way to learn the art of romance."

"Well, my searches in the library were mostly unsuccessful, and it seems that this type of show is the only one that features such regular romantic activity. Is there any other source you might be able to suggest?"

Matt sighed, seating himself on the white carpeting next to the smaller boy. "In case you hadn't noticed, we're in a house full of teenagers. Just watch them if you want to know about romance and relationships." He turned his head, carefully examining Near's impassive face. "Why are you so desperate to know about that, anyway?" he asked, taking a covert glance at Near's notepad. It read so far:

_Kissing: avoid teeth. Would seem to be faintly unpleasant, if not for firsthand experience. Stubble a potential hazard?_

_Biting lip, discussing evil twin apparently attractive. Employ as flirtation device as events warrant._

_Note: it appears an integral part of romance is falling to the floor due to passion (or possibly lack of balance caused by said passion). Invest in kneepads?_

Matt stifled a snort, wondering precisely whose stubble Near was concerned about.

Near shifted the notebook away from Matt's prying eyes, pulling sharply at a lock of his hair as he thought of a suitable response.

"Well, Matt, it is only natural for all adolescents to ponder upon the nature of romance at some time. I am just researching it more efficiently than you are perhaps accustomed to."

"Yes, but what brought this on? This is the first time you've done anything like this, Near." Matt frowned, trying to recall anything that might have prompted the boy's strange behavior.

Then, he grinned, realization dawning in his goggle-obscured eyes. "It was when Mello kissed you the other night, wasn't it?"

Near stiffened, glancing searchingly at the boy next to him. "I…can't imagine why you would reach that conclusion, Matt."

"I'm right! It's because of Mello, isn't it? Do you…like him?" Matt stared at Near, looking both amused and slightly delighted.

"Whom I like is none of your concern, Matt," Near mumbled, trying to hide the obvious twitching in his fingers.

Matt sighed, throwing a proprietary arm around Near's shoulders and ignoring the pale boy's look of utter confusion at the act. "Near, you're not going to get anywhere with Mello by watching soap operas. In fact, the chance of you getting anywhere with Mello is almost nil in any case."

Near frowned slightly, trying to shift away from Matt's friendly but surprisingly strong arm.

"When did you start liking him, anyway? No offense, but you've never showed obvious interest in another human being before."

"You have never showed interest in me, and I suggest you continue along this path," Near said coldly, giving up all attempts at escape as Matt's arm proved to be immovable.

"Well, I can't ignore the fact that you're in love with my best friend," Matt said, looking thoughtful.

"I wouldn't use the term 'in love.' It's simply a side effect of hormones, I assure you."

Matt grinned at him, seeming highly amused. "I doubt it, Near. What else could actually make you show emotion for once?"

Near made a mental note to not only hide his emotions, but throw them down a metaphorical well and toss away the key. This was beginning to be humiliating.

"Matt, is there something you'd particularly like to say about my situation? If not, I'd appreciate it if you ended this harassment."

"Yeah, there's something. See, what you need to do is work with this."

"Hm?" Near asked suspiciously.

Matt's face assumed an air of wisdom, only slightly marred by the large orange goggles concealing a good half of his face. "What I mean by that is that you have to use your considerably large brain in this situation. It's not enough to just have an unrequited attraction towards Mello; you want to get him to reciprocate your feelings, am I right?"

"I suppose so," Near admitted grudgingly, wondering if there was any chance of Matt being crushed to death by Decepticons whilst he slept.

"In that case, you must learn to seduce him. And not by watching crap television." Matt stood up, pulling the reluctant and dead-limbed Near with him. "Your first mission: stop making him hate you."

Near frowned. "Mello despises me because I score higher than him. I am not going to start failing my tests to earn his affection."

"That's not what I meant," Matt said, frowning in return. "Mello dislikes you because you're a cold little bastard."

Near stared at him.

"Well, it's true," Matt said unrepentantly. "you just need to be a bit more human around him."

"How, precisely, do I accomplish that?"

Matt smiled knowledgeably. "It's simple. Just acknowledge his existence in a positive manner for once. If there's one thing Mello loves, it's attention."

"You may be right," Near admitted, recalling the mistletoe game of the previous night. "Still, how do I give him positive attention?"

"Well, first off you mustn't just stand there like a dead thing while he talks to you. Respond. If you see him in the hallway, ask him when such-and-such is due, or how he got that massive bruise on his forehead."

"He has a massive bruise on his forehead?"

"No. That was an admittedly arbitrary example. But, do you understand now?"

"I believe so."

Matt sighed with relief. "Great. Well done. Now, our next point…"

Near stared at him. "I must confess, I've never heard you speak so much before."

"Er, that's because you don't actually spend time with me, Near."

"Point taken. You may proceed." Near repositioned himself on the green couch, Matt following suit. The other boy procured a DS from some unthinkable orifice about his person, and deftly started a new game as he spoke. "The next part's a bit simpler, I think. There has to be a physical attraction as well as an emotional one, you know?"

"I don't think I like what you are implying, Matt. And is that a fashion design game you are playing?"

Matt scowled at him, irritated at the lack of respect directed towards his wisdom. "The game is illustrating my point, Near. See, right now you look rather boring. Baggy shirt, same with the pants, messy hair…"

"I am aware of my own appearance, Matt."

"Anyway, you're going to have to be a bit more attractive if you want Mello to notice you in a good sort of way. Now, you don't have to wear a dress or anything—"

"I wasn't even considering that an option, actually."

"—but you could, I don't know…"

Matt stared blankly at Near, attempting to envision a world in which the sheeplike boy was actually attractive to other human beings.

"I suppose you could…wear tighter pants?"

Near gave him a flat look.

"Listen, Near, would you rather look like a baggy sheep, or like this?" He tilted the DS screen towards Near.

"Matt, that is a female."

"Yeah, they only let you design for women on this game. But she's wearing pants, see?"

"She is also wearing what appears to be a sparkly napkin. Is that what you envision for me?"

"No, that part we can skip….look, let's just move on."

"And she's wearing platform boots, and a hat shaped like—"

"I said we're moving on, Near. Do not look at the game."

"I am not the one who apparently derives enjoyment from it…"

Matt flipped the DS closed, stowing it away in its mysterious pocket once more. He looked very seriously at Near, seemingly unruffled by the previous insult.

Near stared back at him, wondering with no small degree of bemusement what horror would be next on Matt's list of seduction tips.

"Actually, this one's probably the easiest of all. Just give him chocolate."

"That's it?" Near asked, looking relieved.

"Yeah, that's what he loves most of all. How do you think we've stayed friends for so long?"

"I think that I can accomplish this task after all. Is there a type of chocolate he prefers?"

"Well, he likes Green & Black particularly, but he'll eat anything that looks obscenely delicious." Matt grinned, recalling all the instances upon which he had avoided near-death with the healing power of chocolate.

"I will take that into account," Near said, looking slightly cheered. "Is there anything else I must do to attract Mello?"

"That's pretty much it," Matt said, resuming his laconic air and standing up from the couch. "Good luck, Near."

"Thank you, I suppose. You won't—"

"I won't say anything to Mello."

Near allowed himself the luxury of a tiny smile. "That's very kind of you, Matt."

"Whatever," the ginger boy replied, shutting the door to the TV room and leaving Near alone with his thoughts once more.


	3. Run Run Away

Hello all my readers, mates, and generally incredible people. I bring you the next installment of Near and Mello's epic romance, which today happens to involve underpants, dead wasps, and naughty suggestions of the very best kind. Now, I don't think the updates will be so quick in the future—I have a school to go back to starting Monday—but tell you what, I'll try to churn out at least one chapter a week. Delightful? I think so.

I warn you, I wrote this chapter under the influence of some pretty ridiculous music, so you might want to listen to some Supertramp or Slade to get you in the mood. Or, you know, just because they're awesome.

Remember: please por favor sil vous plait REVIEW. Reviews make me so happy, it's disgusting. If you review, I will personally send you my bottled tears of joy, m'kay?

Disclaimer: D to the N is not to the mine. Ken?

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Near wandered slowly through the sunny halls of Wammy's, his trademark "dying crackhead" stumble-walk no longer drawing attention from the other orphans. A silver plastic robot clutched in his hand, he slowly made his way towards Roger's office.

He took this opportunity to shoot baleful glances towards the overly-bright windows lining the main hallway (What right did the sun have to shine, anyway? It was December, after all. If the weather had been going according to plan, it would be snowing). Of course, in the Near inventory of expressions, "baleful" was very similar to what would be considered a blank stare on anyone else. Therefore, even if any of the other children making their way to lunch had bothered to examine his face, they wouldn't be able to deduce anything.

Near was very proud of his poker-faces. He had got to the stage when even a massive head wound would only have contorted his features to the smallest degree. While this boded ill for any future attempts at sincerity, he gladly considered his immovable face an asset in the battle against Potential Enemies. This was a particular subset of people whom, he imagined, were not only devious and bent on mankind's destruction but capable of assuming vehicular form when they felt the need.

Whilst all of the Good/Evil battles he had witnessed so far had in fact been against thoroughly human individuals, he felt quite sure that when his time as an avenger came about, Decepticons and tentacle-beasts would rise from the cracks of civilization to oppose his shining morals.

Or, you know, something along those lines.

Anyway, predictions of the future were the farthest things from Near's mind at the moment. Even the burning and malicious sunshine could not distract him from his current plan.

Like all good strategies, it had a name: Operation Convince Mello Not to Regard Near as an Impassive Bastard but Rather, With the Use of Impressive Mental Tactics, to Inspire Deeply Romantic Feelings for Near in his Soul. As this name was, he would freely concede, overlong and unwieldy to boot, he had taken to just referring to his plan as OCMNRNIBRWUMTIDRFNS. This was also complicated and lengthy, but at least it was an acronym. Besides, there was only a small chance of his ever needing to say it out loud in any case.

Roger's office was neatly tucked away in one of the small hallways that meandered through the East wing of the building. Near reached the glossy oak door in record time (twenty-five minutes) and knocked gently.

Roger's creaky old voice shouted a cheerful welcome, and Near pushed the door open. He was grateful to discover that inside the office, the blinds were drawn and only scarce beams of sunlight pierced the air. Roger very rarely exposed the room to the sun, leading to many rumors amongst the orphans of his potential vampiric tendencies.

Near was quite positive that Roger was simply a human being. No old man who could eat soup with such great gusto could be any sort of vampire. And Roger liked his soup.

"Near!" Roger said, a crinkly smile spreading across his equally-crinkly face. "Happy Holidays," the old man said, reaching down and opening a desk drawer. "Now, don't worry! You're not in any sort of trouble."

Near, who in all his time at Wammy's had been in trouble a grand total of once (for making Linda cry after a particularly nasty observation on his part), stared blankly at Roger.

The old man continued, "I just realized today that I forgot to give you the usual Christmas gift on time. But better late than never, eh?" He winked, and rummaged around a bit more before retrieving a poorly wrapped package with triumph. Beaming, he beckoned Near forward.

Near stared cautiously at the gift. He was not sure why Roger believed a orange mouse-patterned wrapping paper would be appealing to him, but it was a kind gesture. Especially as Roger was one of the scant number who actually gave him any sort of gift at Christmastime.

Taking the papery disaster from Roger's hands, he delicately pried up the sellotape at the edges of the paper. He would never rip open a gift; it would betray excitement and anticipation, two emotions that could very easily be used to his detriment.

When the wrappings were sufficiently unfolded, he surveyed the gift that had been revealed.

A pack of socks.

"Socks," he said quietly. "That's very thoughtful of you. They're even white."

"Yes," Roger said jovially, "I know how you like your white socks! But lift those up, there's more!"

Near complied. This revealed the also-white pack of boxer shorts that had been placed underneath the socks. "Ah, undergarments. Thank you very much, Roger." Near pushed the customary smile onto his face and carefully folded the paper back around the gifts.

Roger looked delighted with what he genuinely believed to be Near's gratitude. "You're quite welcome, Near. I would have gotten you a new puzzle, but I thought I'd change it up a bit. You know, make it less predictable!" This was said with such an earnest air that Near felt just the tiniest bit of affection towards the old man. Besides, underpants and socks were hardly the worst presents he had ever received. (that honor was held by the handful of dead wasps Mello had carefully placed on his pillow two Christmases ago.)

Near stood awkwardly in the center of the room until Roger glanced up at him again. "Oh, that's all, Near. Get back to whatever you were doing!" He smiled at the pale boy, no longer distressed by the lack of expression the other customarily displayed. "If I were you, I'd take advantage of this lovely weather and go outside! We shan't have many more days like this in December!"

"That's a good idea, Roger," Near said flatly, trying to remember the last time he had actually gone outside voluntarily.

Oh, right. That had never happened.

Roger now employed the classic "shoo" hand motion. "Go on, Near! Enjoy your day."

Near turned and left, resolving to return to his room and reconstruct his favorite puzzle, a 2000-piece monstrosity decorated with a picture of Versailles.

Unfortunately, it seemed luck was not on his side today. As soon as he started down the hallway leading to his room, he was immediately waylaid by the person who had been occupying his thoughts so frequently.

Mello, apparently returning from a game of football judging from the dirt and grass stains lining his knees, slid out from one of the doorways lining the hall. Standing in front of the smaller boy with a ferocious expression on his face, he placed his hands on his hips. Somehow, the gesture was less effeminate than intimidating on Mello.

"Near!"

Near sighed internally, wondering just how many exclamations of his name he would encounter today. "Yes, Mello?"

Mello's eyes narrowed at the flat voice. "What's in the package?"

Ah. It seemed that Mello did not in fact have a particular issue with his behavior today, and was simply searching for a fight. While ordinarily, Near would just walk around the boy and lock himself in his room, today he couldn't help but take the opportunity to admire his aggressor.

There was quite a lot worthy of admiration. Even dirty and scuffed from a football game, Mello was strangely elegant. Unlike Near himself, his posture was impeccable, and the aura of confidence surrounding him was perfectly palpable.

And of course, he had a pretty face. When Near was allowed to witness said face this close, it was generally contorted in anger, but he still appreciated the sparkle of rage in the bluish eyes and the soft fall of meticulously-brushed yellow hair. (It was a known fact that Mello brushed his hair precisely two hundred and thirty-four times each night and morning.)

It's a strange fact of infatuation that the object of desire will always appear exceedingly attractive to the infatuated, regardless of actual circumstances. While Mello did indeed have lovely hair and a certain poise, he was usually dismissed as an overly-girly asshole by his male contemporaries.

This did not extend to the girls of Wammy's, who were mostly going through that awkward stage of puberty when a girly boy was much less threatening than anything else available. Therefore, Mello was in the strange social niche of being beloved by all girls thirteen to fourteen, yet scorned utterly by most of the boys. He dealt with this in his typical way; by breaking the nose of any male that dared to insult him.

It only added insult to (literal) injury for his targets when they discovered the truth of Mello's sexuality. While not officially leaning one way or the other, Mello was infamous for seducing anyone he damn well wanted to, regardless of gender.

This gave Near a fair amount of hope for the future. He wouldn't have to deal with any "I'm in love with a straight man!" baggage, which would probably be his biggest obstacle in any other case.

Of course, Mello still hated him, which was a large difficulty in itself.

This hatred was evident as Mello glowered at Near, waiting for a reply to his previous question. Near shook himself out of the customary Mello-induced reverie and thought of a suitable response.

"It is simply a Christmas gift, Mello." Yes, this was a perfect answer. Sufficiently informative, but enough was left unsaid to ensure that Mello would continue to ask searching questions.

And the more questions Mello asked, the more time was left for Near to observe and admire him.

Mello reacted according to plan. "A gift from who? We were supposed to get all of our gifts the other night." He walked closer, staring into Near's seemingly dead eyes. "What's in there, Near?"

Wait. In his scheming, Near had forgotten the nature of the gift. Now Mello was naturally going to grab the package from him and peer inside. And then, of course, he would see the underpants. Near very assuredly did not want the object of his affection surveying his underpants.

But this was all useless, as Mello did indeed seize the gift from Near's unresponsive hands. He spared a moment to scoff at the wrapping paper. "Mice? Wow, Near, very tasteful."

Only a Wammy child would use the word "tasteful" in such a circumstance, Near reflected.

Mello ripped open the paper, causing his rival to cringe. The blond boy's gaze first lit upon the socks, and Near hoped he would stop there.

"Socks? You got socks for Christmas? Figures…" However, Mello immediately noticed that there was something under the socks, and promptly pushed the first pack aside.

A wide grin stretched across his face. "This is even better! It's no surprise, Near, your underpants are just as boring as the rest of you."

Near stood there silently, all thoughts of Mello's beauty gone from his mind as he was battered with the twin feelings of irritation and embarrassment.

But somehow, he couldn't help but wonder what color Mello's underpants were…definitely not white, he was sure of that.

Oh, there were those feelings of lust again.

Mello was still talking, and Near wrenched himself out of agonizing introspection to hear "…and I'm honestly amazed that someone actually bothered to get _you _a gift, you sorry little bastard."

He tossed the unwrapped package back to Near, the other boy only managing to catch it by the very edge. Socks and underpants hit the floor with twin thuds, making it look like the hall had succumbed to a peculiar and localized snowfall.

Mello snorted at Near once more for good measure, watching the paler boy with a spiteful eye. He looked a bit strange….

Near's mind and body worked desperately to suppress all emotion. He couldn't let Mello see how he felt, couldn't let the other boy have an advantage here. But his embarrassment was, for once, too tangible to hide, and to his horror he felt a pink stain creeping across his pallid face.

He was blushing.

Mello noticed immediately, and his face assumed a look of utter shock. Near, the impassive and emotionless enemy, had dropped his guard.

If Mello had been a weaker man, he would have regarded Near's pink-tinged cheeks as cute. Especially with those downcast eyes…

But hey, he was above that. It was necessary to focus more on Near's lapse in defense than on his relative adorableness. Of course, Near had evidently realized his display of weakness as well, as the younger boy was now trying to creep past him.

"Leaving so soon?" asked Mello, following in the proud cliched-dialogue tradition of many cat-stroking villains before him. To add to the general aura of menace, he leaned as nonchalantly as humanly possible against the wall.

Now for the malicious expression—and yes, there it was. Perfect. God, Mello was so awesome sometimes, he amazed himself.

Near, still with his eyes lowered, quietly responded. "I really need to get to my room, Mello. Could you let me by?"

Mello switched from Intimidating Pose No. 1 to Slightly Threatening Stance No. 4 (back against wall, arms crossed, head tilted for maximum scary eye contact) and smirked, revealing remarkably cavity-free teeth. "No need to leave just yet, Near."

Near looked up at Mello again through a dense fringe of white hair, judging immediately that any chance of escape had just flown out the window. The only option, he supposed, was to talk himself out of this situation and then never, ever leave his room again. They could get the food through the window, after all, and he had enough toys to last through the proverbial Zombie Apocalypse. But that was easier said than done, as he had no idea how to distract Mello.

He had blushed. What an embarrassing, elementary mistake. Now, just look where emotion had got him. While he did enjoy getting the chance to observe Mello in all his glory, this could only end badly.

"Really, Mello. Is there something you need to say to me? I honestly must be going, if not." Maybe if he feigned ignorance of the blush, Mello would be momentarily confused.

xxx

Mello scoffed and stared at the white-haired boy. As though he wouldn't pursue the whole "blushing" incident. This was the first time Near had displayed emotion in months, and Mello hadn't even had to walk in on him showering this time.

Not that he did that _deliberately, _he hastily added. If he wanted to see someone naked, it certainly wouldn't be Near. Ugly sheep-boy, he was.

Now, he had to figure out a way to show some more of that lovely emotion. If only all of those textbooks he had been immersed in of late had been a bit more focused on the psychological warfare aspect of everything…

He really should just abandon Near for the time being. Even a tiny little sliver of emotion was enough, and he desperately needed access to the chocolate stashed in his room. But he couldn't stop now, at least not without making Near feel just a bit of the humiliation the sheep-boy had inflicted upon him over the years.

Hold on a moment. Near had shown emotion recently, hadn't he? At that damn Christmas party, when they were made to kiss…he had forgotten, probably due to a desire to wipe the entire incident from his memory, but Near had blushed then. Just like he had a moment ago.

Of course. Amazing he hadn't figured it out before. Near, after avoiding people for so many years, was desperately afraid of intimacy, of touch…whatever you wanted to call it. It was only natural that someone who had no friends, pushed everyone away, would not know how to deal with the most basic of interactions.

Now, time to utterly exploit that fear. He would almost feel sorry for Near, but sheep-boy had been screwing with his brain for far too long, and that definitely merited punishment.

"Hey, Near…" his voice changed abruptly from brash and challenging to something far more attractive. Near looked at him, his eyes widening slightly but betraying no emotion. Well, that would soon change.

"Remember that party on Christmas Eve? You know, when we…kissed?" Mello drew the last word out in a positively lascivious manner. Near's eyes were glued to his face, wide with what could have been fear, anticipation, or just gas. This was Near, after all.

"Yes, Mello, I recall that." Near's voice was even quieter than usual, and completely lacking its confident air.

"Weeeelll," Mello purred, stepping closer to the pallid boy, "Would you like to, maybe…do it again?"


	4. I Don't Mind

Hello again, my super best pallies of internet-world!!! –shot-

Anyway, here's the fourth chapter. I like this one quite a bit…yes, yes, there is some Hot Kissing Action in this one, so keep your trousers on.

I also really like this chapter because not only is it fast-paced, but I threw in a sort of proto-friendship between Near and Matt. Now, it irritates me a bit that Matt is used in so many fics, as we don't know crap about the guy, but if I'm gonna be writing a Wammy-era fic I must utilize him anyway. I think he's at least bearable in here, and not OOC for someone who appeared in ten bloody manga panels.

As always, REVIEW. I'd like to thank you all for the truly epic amount of reviews I received last time, by the way! I'm not gonna hold this story hostage until I get a bunch of reviews, but they really do make me happier about writing. So, ya know, give it a try. :D

Disclaimererer: El Death Note no es de mi? No puedo hablar Espanol. Dame un besito, guapo!

XXXXXXXXX

Near knew what he was doing, of course. A typical tactic: disorient the socially awkward opponent with promises of physical intimacy. It was, for Mello, sadly predictable.

But it hurt, somehow, having Mello find his weakness and ruthlessly twist it about for his own purposes. Especially as kissing the other boy was something that nowadays occupied about seventy percent of his thought processes (The other thirty percent was dedicated to something a bit more _interesting _than kissing). It seemed like a low blow, although it was obvious Mello hadn't guessed that Near was actually lusting after him. He just thought it was a good strategy, given Near's previous record of interacting with as few people as humanly possible.

Near was shaken out of his thoughts when Mello seized him by the scrawny shoulders and shoved their mouths together. Apparently, kissing methods could change drastically depending on the circumstances…where was his notebook? That ought to be written down.

His second kiss with Mello was even more excruciating than the first. This time, Mello was holding him, one hand tangled tightly in white hair and the other snaked around his waist.

What was he doing? Was that—oh God, he had opened his mouth? What happened now?

Near decided, not for the first time, that Mello tasted quite wonderful. And then, to his horror and slight joy, an aggressive tongue shoved its way into his mouth. He wanted to open his eyes in the hopes that he would somehow be enlightened as to proper kissing etiquette, but he couldn't quite bring himself to do it and shatter the self-inflicted stupor.

Instead, he tentatively moved his own tongue a fraction of an inch, which was met by a jab to the upper mouth that—Agh!—seriously tickled.

Mello's hand, apparently taking on a diabolical life of its own, found a new home on a rather exciting portion of Near's anatomy. Having never had his arse grabbed before, Near jumped and squeaked into the other's mouth.

The kiss continued, Near's tongue putting up a pathetic battle against Mello's. The hand on his backside squeezed intermittently, then crept away for the safer climes of Near's shoulder. Finally, Mello pulled away, licking his lips with a vaguely satisfied air.

He had certainly gotten his wish—Near's face was the approximate color of a stop sign, his eyes wide and embarrassed.

Mello briefly regretted grabbing the boy's arse, but then passed it off as One Small Feel for Mankind. It all served a greater purpose, really.

But God, was Near a bad kisser. If the boy wasn't his sworn archenemy, he might have done something to rectify the condition. But as it was, kissing Near was only good for disorientation and specified cruelty. Speaking of which…

"Merry fucking Christmas, Near." With that, Mello walked off down the hallway, leaving Near to stare blankly at his retreating arse.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Near had to give Mello credit. That one kiss had sent his mind whirling about for nearly two hours, and he was just now taking the chance to put his thoughts together.

He had finally managed to reach his room, and the door was now firmly locked with a chair placed under the knob for good measure. For once, there were no toys or cards spread across the white carpet; Near simply sat in the middle of the floor, knee pulled to his chest and a thoughtful expression on his childish features.

His original intent had been to seduce Mello. But now that Mello had kissed him, the other boy might regard any affection on Near's part as a clever attempt at revenge. Mello had ruined the plan entirely, and the worst part was that this was mostly Near's fault. If he had just pushed past the boy in the hallway, none of this would have happened, and he could have made the first move.

However, it was impractical to dwell on the past. What was done was done, and now Near had to put his admittedly brilliant mind to work and think up a new way to win Mello's affection.

If Mello believed that any kind words or expression of interest on Near's part were a ploy, the only option was to thoroughly convince Mello of his sincerity. That much was obvious. But…how on Earth could he do that? If there was one thing Near was famed for lacking, it was sincerity.

There was something that he could possibly do. He remembered a few months ago, when Linda had managed to drag him away from his puzzles and into the common room. They had been joined by several of Linda's friends, who were for the most part interchangeable. One of them, whose bland features did not bring to mind a name, had talked about her attempts to get one of the older boys to notice her. She had done something…what was it?

Oh, yes. The "Secret Admirer" trick. While Near would ordinarily dismiss this tactic as useless, much to his surprise he had encountered the bland girl and her object of desire entangled on the couch the very next week. Apparently, her strategy had worked flawlessly.

Not to mention, a secret admirer angle was perfect for Mello. It made use of Matt's advice to give Mello positive attention—what was more positive than an anonymous note declaring someone's love for you? And he could leave Mello gifts of chocolate, which was also according to Matt's instructions.

It was seemingly perfect. The only catch was that Near had no idea how to write a note to Mello and not immediately betray his identity. He had a very particular way of talking and writing, one that was far too cold and impartial for a love note.

As much as the idea pained his solitary soul, he would have to get some help. Unfortunately, his options were limited to Matt and Linda, they being the only two who were willing to talk to him on a regular basis. Linda would probably be quite skilled at using flowery romantic language, but she would also interrogate him ruthlessly about the subject and occasion of the note. Matt, while not the most talented with words, would already know of Near's plight and be able to deliver the note directly to the target.

Near slowly unfolded himself from the carpet and walked over to the bin that contained most of his favorite toys. Tucking a purple robot under his arm for moral support, he silently opened the door and crept into the hallway. At this time of day, most of the orphans were likely to be in the common room, exchanging gossip or trying angrily to read amidst the chatter. Both Matt and Linda were likely to be among their number.

His suspicions were proved correct when, upon entering the room, he immediately spotted a familiar ginger head bent over yet another handheld game. Linda, on the other side of the room, was sitting with a group of chattering young girls. Judging from the sketchpad in front of her, she was once more encouraging her artistic talent by sketching furtive portraits of those she found attractive.

Near went over to Matt first, as the gamer was relatively isolated and there was less chance of their conversation being overheard. As he approached, the older boy glanced up and shot a quizzical expression in his direction. Near took a spot on the floor next to him, setting his robot on the floor to survey the other children.

"What's wrong, Near?" Matt asked, turning to face the other. Near creased his brow in what might have passed for a frown.

"Why do you assume that something has gone wrong?" He looked at Matt quizzically, one hand coming up to tangle itself in unbrushed white hair. Matt grinned slightly at him.

"Well, you're never in the common room, much less for the express purpose of talking to me, so the only reason you'd be in here now is if something went wrong with, you know…Mello." At the last part, Matt lowered his voice, earning Near's emphatic gratitude.

Near nodded slowly. "I suppose I had better tell you what happened earlier, then. As I was returning to my room, I ran into Mello. He humiliated me, and I'm afraid I revealed that by blushing. Taking this as an incentive, Mello decided to mock me further by, uh…engaging me in a kiss. Then, naturally, he verbally insulted me once more and left."

Matt, looking pensive, sat silent for a moment as Near once more fought down a rising blush at the memory of the incident. Say what you like about Mello's personality, intelligence, and appearance—kissing the other boy was, as of yet, the most pleasurable contact he had ever had with another human being.

Matt finally formulated a reply. "So, since Mello kissed you, now he'll think that if you flirt with him you're just trying to get revenge. I guess that kind of ruins all that advice I gave you before."

Near inclined his head to indicate the truth in Matt's statement, then looked at the other again. "You are right on the first account, Matt, but there is still a way to incorporate your advice to me into another tactic. However, I think I will require your aid."

Matt frowned. "What's your new plan, then?"

Near looked slightly ashamed for a moment, then resumed his usual haughtiness. "I intend to become Mello's secret admirer, as I believe it is called."

Matt stared at him for a moment, his lips twitching. Near widened his eyes. "Are you suggesting that this plan is a flawed one?"

"No, no!" replied Matt apologetically. "I just never really thought you would suggest something like that. It's a good idea, though, even if I don't see why you need my help."

Near took another quick glance around the room, mindful of potential eavesdroppers. "If I intend to write Mello affectionate notes, I will need to write them in a way so that I will not be recognizable. Unfortunately, I am not sure of how to accomplish this. I thought that you, as a relatively normal-sounding teenager, might be able to tell me some things to write that will not reveal my identity."

Matt sighed, casting a longing glance at the game in his hands before switching the console off and standing up.

"Yeah, I'll help you. Let's go ask Linda for some paper, okay?"

Near stared at him, a look of nearly-indiscernible horror crossing his features. "No. Not Linda. I have some paper in my room."

Matt snorted, holding out a hand to the still-seated Near. "I understand. Now, lead the way, as I don't know where the Hell your room is."

Near, after judging the nail-bitten hand dangling in front of him to be an unthreatening object, grasped Matt's wrist and allowed himself to be tugged gently upwards. "My room is located in the third West hallway, five doors down from the second closet."

Matt leaned down and placed the purple robot in Near's arms. "See, this is why I asked you to lead the way." The red-haired boy smiled, causing Near to wonder if he was supposed to act in turn. Luckily, Matt helped him out.

"You're supposed to smile at that point."

Near quirked the corners of his mouth just enough to pass for smiling. "Why do I smile now? Have you told a joke?"

"Yes, Near. You know, maybe we should learn the basics of human interaction before starting this whole secret admirer thing." Seeing Near's thoughtful expression, he added, "That was called 'teasing.' This is another good time to smile."

Near wondered how the average human being made it through the day with such a glut of social cues to act upon. Looking at Matt's amused face, he decided to simply ignore the ginger for now in favor of more pressing issues. Leaving the common room, he started in the direction of his own personal sanctuary. Matt fell into step beside him. "So, if you don't mind my asking, just how long have you been infatuated with the lovely Mello?"

Near looked at him with slight exasperation. "Is it really necessary to discuss that in the hallway, Matt? We could very easily be overheard."

"We're fine," Matt replied nonchalantly. "Everyone's outside or in the common room. Now, answer my question."

"Quite some time," Near admitted grudgingly, trying to remember when his longing for the overly aggressive blonde had made itself known. "Probably since last Christmas, in fact."

"What happened last Christmas?" Matt asked, not remembering anything of importance occurring in the past year's holiday. Near glanced at the floor, slightly embarrassed. "That was, you recall, when one of the older boys decided to get revenge upon Mello by—"

"—pantsing him in the middle of the common room. Yeah, I remember now. So, that made you realize that he was, in fact, a sexy beast?"

Near looked at him suspiciously, and Matt raised his hands in supplication. "I'm just joking, Near. He's all yours, I swear."

Near, turning down the hallway to his room, looked thoughtful for a moment. "It isn't just a physical attraction, I must confess. Although he is unreliable and emotional, he is also one of the only people I consider to be on the same mental level as myself." He paused, then added, "If it's worth anything, you're another one of those people."

Matt hid a grin. "Thanks, Near. It's nice to know you're actually aware of my existence occasionally. Hey, is this your room?" They both stopped.

Near nodded, pushing the door open. "How did you guess that this was my room?" he asked, entering and setting down his robot on the bedspread. Matt followed him in, closing the door behind them. "Well, it's really white in here. And there are toys everywhere."

Near murmured something in agreement, crouching down and reaching under the bed. "I believe I keep my paper in here, Matt. Hold on a moment." He turned around briefly, narrowing his eyes at the other. "Please do not touch my action figures, by the way."

Matt gave a thumbs-up, looking around the room in vague curiosity. "Why do you like the color white so much, anyway?"

Near, having retrieved a stack of plain printer paper, walked back over to the older boy. "White is the least distracting of all the colors—or should I say, shades, since it is not technically a color."

"Yeah," Matt said, "I guess I can understand that much, but you never want to be around any other colors?"

"My robot is purple," the smaller one replied, grabbing a pen off of the dressing table and sitting down next to Matt. "Now, how should we format this note?"

"Format?" Matt asked dubiously. "You fold it in half and write something inside. It's pretty basic."

Near followed the instructions, producing a flawless rectangle of paper. "Now, we must think of something to write inside."

"I'll do the writing bit," Matt offered, taking the pen and paper. "I've been teaching myself how to disguise my handwriting."

"In order to forge signatures, am I correct?" Matt grinned.

"You may be, at that. Now, what do you want this note to say?"

Near once more twisted a finger within a white lock of hair. "I am not certain. Perhaps we should start with a declaration of physical attraction."

Matt, using a small, cramped writing entirely unlike his own, carefully wrote: _"Dear Mello; I think you're really hot."_

"Alright, done that. What next?"

Near attempted to recall the famous love poems he had been ordered to analyze in various English classes. "Now, I believe, we use a simile contrasting his beauty to something in nature."

"Great, we're writing a sonnet," said Matt, tapping the pen thoughtfully against his closed lips. "We should probably compliment his hair, he considers it his finest asset."

Near, secretly reflecting upon some of Mello's _other _assets, nodded his assent. "So we must now think of famously yellow things. Daffodils, butter…"

"Sunshine, daisies, uh…sulfur…." Matt supplied. "Well, probably not sulfur. I think we ought to go with sunshine, myself."

"That sounds suitable," Near said, watching Matt carefully as the other boy wrote, "_I think your hair is really lovely, it looks just like sunshine."_

"That was poorly executed," Near commented. "But certainly, this doesn't sound like I am writing it."

"What now?" Matt asked, surveying the note. "I think we need at least one more line."

"In that case, my intentions ought to be stated. Write something about my hope that he will someday requite my feelings of romance towards him, please."

_"I'm too shy to tell you who I am, but I hope that eventually you'll like me too."_

Matt looked rather proud of his handiwork, and signed the bottom with a large "_Your secret admirer." _Folding the note back in half, he capped the pen and placed both in Near's hands. "A job well done, if I do say so myself." Near, accepting the pen and paper, returned his smile tentatively. "I thank you for your assistance, Matt."

"Any time. Well, actually not any time, but you get my meaning."

"I do?" Near asked, slightly confused. Matt grinned at him and stood to leave. Unfortunately, this was the same moment that Near also decided to stand, intending to show Matt out.

As is typical of two objects whose trajectories intersect, they collided. Matt was knocked to the floor, and Near, after wavering slightly, collapsed directly on top of him.

With a sense of timing typical of a B movie protagonist, Mello chose this moment to slam open the door to Near's room.

"Hey Near, I think I saw some of your woolly brethren toda—"

He was stopped dead by the sight that met his narrowed eyes: Matt sprawled on the floor, Near straddling the older boy's lap and face buried in his neck.

For a moment, the blond was speechless, but as the two embarrassed occupants of the floor scurried away from each other, he managed to find his voice.

"Matt? _Near_? What the HELL do you two think you're DOING?!"

A/N: Oh my goodness gracious meeee, that was a fun chapter to write. I know the ending is horribly and shamefully cliched, but I couldn't resist throwing another wrench into Near's happy little plan.

So, what do you guys think the chapter lengths should be? Do you want short, cliffhanger chappies in short succession or long, plotlicious ones that will be updated a bit less frequently? Because here at Cabbage's House of Fanfictions, we provide both. Heh heh. Tell me in a review what you think, or PM me or something. Coz I'm curious…I know that fast updates are delicious, but long chapters are more fun to read and don't drive you mad. Tell me what you want…I'm only here for your entertainment, after all. XD


	5. The start of something

Time for some more M/N fun, hooray! It's taken me a while to write this chapter, as school has been keeping me rather more busy than I would like. The first week after Winter Break is always crap, no? Anyway, I couldn't leave you with that devilish cliffie any longer, so I present to you the next installment. Mmm, wish I could think of something relevant to say here, but my mood and energy are not so great. I watched a scary-ass movie last night and it caused me to stay awake until three. Not fun, you know?

Enjoy this chapter, in any case! And don't, I repeat do not, forget to REVIEEEW! I am loving the reviews I've been getting to death, and they really do make me want to write more often. So you're part of the process, you could say.

Diclaim-o—the note of death belongs not to me.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Mello stood in the doorway, his features still twisted in an expression of shock. Near knew from experience that this wouldn't last long; in a few moments that surprise would turn to towering, impenetrable rage. Indeed, even as he watched the eyes narrowed, the lips curled, and a snarl possessed the blond's feminine face.

"Matt. Near. Explain." Even this much restraint was remarkable for Mello; Near assumed that the only reason the other boy wasn't shouting and breaking things was Matt's presence. Ever since early childhood, Matt had been the one to keep Mello's temper under tabs. Near hoped that this would still hold true, even if Matt was now one of the incriminated.

Standing up awkwardly, Near shuffled over to the lone chair occupying a corner of the floor. He sat slowly, drawing a knee up to his chest and watching the two others through a thick curtain of white hair. Matt, to his credit, now appeared entirely unruffled. His initial embarrassment at the falsely compromising position they had been found in had faded quickly; he now stood casually, facing his furious best friend.

Mello breathed heavily and stared at the two, still expecting an answer. As Matt's hand reached out and clapped down on his shoulder he flinched, eyes rolling angrily at the other boy. "Well?"

Matt snorted. "God, Mel, way to overreact."

"Overreact?" Mello half-shouted incredulously. "How the hell am I overreacting? Why are you in Near's room? He was sitting on your fucking _lap._ Explain that, and maybe I'll calm the hell down!" The girlish boy was obviously seconds away from a complete and utter nervous fit; his hands were balled into fists at his side and his bare feet planted on the floor. He glared at Matt, who sighed and rolled his eyes.

"First of all, Mello, Near wasn't sitting on my lap. He _fell, _probably because of you slamming the damn door open like that. We weren't doing any of the things that your pervy little imagination has supplied. You really think I'd be making out with _Near, _Mello?"

Mello glared at them both. "You _fell? _Yeah, right. It's pretty damn obvious that you were doing a bit more than that."

Matt snorted. "Do we look like we were? If you weren't throwing a tantrum, Mello, you'd realize that our lips aren't swollen, no one's blushing. The only thing I wanted from Near was for his bony arse to stop digging into my bloody leg. So calm the hell down, Mello."

Mello did indeed take a moment to look at the two; Matt was right. He definitely recognized the signs of a tryst when he saw them, and it seemed that Matt and Near were innocent of any clandestine affections. He breathed a small sigh of relief, then frowned again. "That still doesn't explain why you were in his room."

Matt rolled his eyes, safely hidden behind orange goggles. "I can go in Near's room if I want to, Mello. Not everyone has to wish the kid a painful death, you know."

"That's barely an explanation. Why were you really here?" Mello curled his toes, an action watched with great interest by his white-haired nemesis. Even if going barefoot was just one of Mello's passing affectations, the sight of his exposed skin was horribly enchanting.

Matt shot what seemed to be a regretful glance towards Near, who retaliated with a suspicious stare. What was the older boy planning?

"Sorry, Near," Matt said sadly. "I'm gonna have to tell him the truth, or he's going to drive us all mad for the rest of the week."

Near's breath caught. No! Matt couldn't do this, he should never have trusted the boy to aid him if this was his payment.

Mello stared with angry curiosity at Matt. "What's the big secret, Matt?" he challenged.

Matt said reluctantly, "Well, the truth is, Near needed my help for something. See, he—"

"Matt." Near interrupted quietly. "Don't."

"Look, Near, it's fine. He won't care."

Near scowled slightly, his mind in a furious uproar. Of course Mello would care, he would never stand for his rival harboring romantic feelings towards him. Maybe he would have if the plan had worked, but this way Near's attraction would just be doomed.

Matt continued before Near could interject once more. "Near wanted my help, because he kind of has a crush on someone."

Mello stared. "What?" he asked weakly, his expression alternating between horrified and curious. "On who?"

Near breathed in, ready to be painfully outed.

"He likes…Linda," Matt finished, still with an apologetic look on his face. Mello's eyes widened with disbelief.

"Matt!" Near said, quiet but startled. He shut his mouth quickly, fixing his features in a perfectly blank expression.

Matt sighed, which Near now realized was a complete act. "I'm sorry, Near…"

Mello continued to gape, affording Near a pleasing view of his full lips. Eventually, the look of shock faded and he let out a loud snort. "Linda? That creepy little slag with the sketchbook? You could at least aim a little higher, Near."

Near stayed silent, relieved that a Mello-catastrophe had been averted. The blonde boy had obviously reverted to his usual strategy of absently insulting Near for the hell of it. His secret would remain a secret for the time being. Matt, crossing his arms behind the stripes of his shirt, flashed him some sort of hand sign.

Oh, yes. The "thumbs-up." The universally recognized symbol of positivity. How very like Matt.

"Let's go, Matt. Unless you want to spend some more quality time with Near?" Mello turned and walked out, grabbing Matt by a lanky arm and pulling insistently on the gamer. Matt, having no real choice in the matter, followed. As the two boys left, Matt said loudly, "Mello, why don't we go outside for a while? You know, away from _Wammy's._"

Mello muttered an affirmative response, and they were gone.

Near, after a moment in thought, realized what Matt's last comment had signified. With Mello outside, this was Near's opportunity to plant the note in his room. Judging from the aggressive blonde's past behavior, he would be outside for roughly one hour and twelve minutes. This left Near with ample time to not only place the note, but procure a suitable gift of chocolate for Mello.

Unbeknownst to Mello, the Wammy kitchen staff rotated the location of all chocolate on a biweekly basis. This was in fact a preventative measure against Mello himself, who had discovered the first stash of chocolate at the age of five, and had proceeded to devour all of the stuff the orphanage stocked. Then, naturally, he had vomited up a large portion of it, five-year-old stomachs not being suited to such a massive amount of sweets.

In any case, Near knew the current chocolate supply to be stored in the sixth cardboard box from the bottom in the largest pantry. No one had ever bothered to hide the location of the chocolate from him, as he never ate the stuff.

The kitchen was just down the hall from Near's room, so it shouldn't take him an extravagant amount of time to find a suitable gift for Mello. Standing, he located the note. Matt, upon Mello's entrance, had managed to tuck it under the bed before the blonde boy noticed. Near retrieved the folded paper and tucked it into one of the overlarge pockets on the front of his shirt. He glanced a final time at the room to ensure that nothing was out of order. Contented, he left, closing the door quietly.

When he arrived at the kitchen, it was luckily quite deserted. He walked over to a particular drawer, pulled it open halfway, and dislodged the key blu-tacked to the underside. After a series of daring pantry raids, the door had been fitted with a lock and the key thoroughly hidden. But once more, Near was exempt from the secrecy, since it was widely believed that he didn't actually eat.

Near shuffled to the pantry door, slipping the key in the lock and sliding open the door. He felt around for the light switch, locating the switch and flipping it on.

Boxes and stacks of dry goods were illuminated, revealing the truly vast amount of food needed to feed an entire orphanage. Like all pantries, it smelled of stale cereal and neglected marshmallows.

The box Near was attempting to locate was on one of the higher shelves, surrounded by other, identical containers. Frowning slightly at the obstacle presented to him, Near pushed the stool in the corner over to the shelf. However, even standing on the stool with arms extended, he could barely reach the box.

He grabbed at the edges of the cardboard, hoping to slide the container out slowly and keep the others from toppling. This seemed to work admirably at first; he was a mere centimetre away from freeing the box when the ones surrounding it began to tilt alarmingly. Not entirely sure how to deal with this obstacle, he continued to doggedly pull at the box. As it came free with a scrape, the others toppled.

A box full of cocoa powder and instant oatmeal dealt a blow to his head as a veritable avalanche of powdered, flaked, and condensed products rained to the floor. Near, slightly stunned by the unfamiliar pain in his skull, stared blankly at the mess before bringing his attention back to the box in his arms.

Folding open the flaps, he surveyed the meager assortment of chocolate products. Most of the space was taken up by cheap bonbons and chocolate-coated wafers, but as he rummaged, Near saw the chocolate brand Matt had mentioned.

Retrieving the bar of dark chocolate, Near closed the box and, after debating a moment, placed it on the floor with its fallen comrades. No one would suspect him of causing the mess, so he didn't feel the need to clean it up.

Leaving the pantry and turning off the light, Near was relieved to note that the kitchen was still unoccupied. He stuck the key back on the underside of its drawer, more out of habit than anything else.

Mello's room was only a short distance away. Unsure of where to store the chocolate bar, Near tucked the coveted food up his baggy sleeve for the time being.

The journey to Mello's room was pleasingly uneventful, and Near arrived with a great amount of time to spare. Opening the door, he surveyed the messy quarters. The bed was strewn with clothes, as was the floor. A dresser stood gaping open, socks and t-shirts poking out haphazardly. The comforter was heaped on the floor, tangled up with blue bedsheets. On Mello's desk a laptop hummed, showing a screensaver of morphing polyhedrons. Unsurprisingly, the wastebasket was filled with chocolate wrappers.

Near carefully walked over to the bed, wondering where the most advantageous location for his note would be. As the pillow was one of the only clear spaces, he placed the note directly in the center, weighing it down with the chocolate bar.

His mission complete, he turned to leave. However, the opportunity to pry into Mello's life a bit was too tempting to resist, and he decided to stay for a few more minutes and have a look about.

He first went to the laptop, and swished the cordless mouse about until the screensaver disappeared. A music player was revealed, indicating that a song by Paulina Rubio had evidently been paused halfway through. As Near knew absolutely nothing about music, this wasn't of particular interest.

Next, he walked over to the dresser. Opening the top drawer silently, he was met by sight of Mello's underpants. They were much more interesting than his own, covered in patterns and bright colors. Succumbing to an embarrassing desire, he snatched up a pair of sky-blue boxers and stared at them for a moment. The urge to steal them was nigh-overpowering, but Mello was exactly the sort to catalogue his underwear and he couldn't afford the risk.

He reluctantly replaced the shorts, closing the drawer to its previous state. the next two held nothing of interest, and he crouched down to reach the last one.

This one was far more alarming. Nestled underneath an array of gloves and winter hats, Near found a sizeable stack of dirty magazines. Eyeing the musclebound young men and ridiculously augmented women decorating the covers, he suddenly felt hideously awkward. He tucked the magazines back under the hats and stood up.

It was time to leave, anyway. Mello and Matt would likely be back within twenty minutes. He shut the door to the bedroom, hoping that he had left everything in the correct order.

Ten minutes later found Near in the library, finally catching up with his Versailles puzzle. He had placed the first note. His only job now was to wait.

A/N: Well, that's that chapter done. No cliffie this time! I don't want this to really get above ten chapters, so we should start to see some action pretty soon. Hurrah! Sorry if this chapter is a bit shorter than you're used to, my brain is out of sorts as of late.

Oh, and you like Mello's music choices? If you don't know who Paulina Rubio is, go look up the video for "Y yo sigo aqui." (of course, it's better if you can actually understand the words) I love to imagine Mello listening to music like this…it's a brilliant mental picture, if not very hardcore. Well, see ya next time! As this chapter is short, I'll try to update soon with a real long one to make you joyful. Bye!


	6. Bang bang you're dead

Hello again, old friends, new friends, and homicidal squid-beings! Sorry that this chapter is a bit later than you might have expected…I swore to post one every week, but I'm afraid the week ended about an hour ago. Bugger, eh? Anyway, I like this chapter a bit. I bet it mucks about with your expectations for the rest of the story…but remember, this thing will only be ten chapters AT MOST. So, sorry if it seems like I've aborted a few plot arcs…I have a plan! Sort of. Well, just read this chapter. Then we'll see if you like where it's going. Speaking of which, you really ought to REVIEW. The feedback I've been getting so far has been lovely and ace, so keep it up! Especially for this chapter, I'd like to know if you are enthused about the direction this story is going or if you just think it's utter crap and want everything to go back to chapter three. So tell me, ja?

Dis of the claiming: If I owned Death Note…lessee, Mikami would be alive and fabulous, MNM would be threesoming bloody everywhere, and Misa and Takada would be having steamy lesbian sex. Really. :3

XXXXXXXX

The loud bang of a door being thrown open shot through the hallway. Mello, once more bedecked in grass stains and minor bruises, strode into his bedroom. It was just the way he preferred it—a disgraceful mess.

Carefully wiping his feet on one of the dirty shirts decorating the floor, he took a moment to draw in a deep breath. An exhaustive game of football had left him panting, and on top of that he had decided to run all the way to his bedroom for no particular reason.

The laptop was stirred to life as Mello took a casual seat in front of the low desk, legs crossed loosely on the floor. Tapping his fingers on the mouse, he spared a moment to look thoughtful.

Near's professed crush on Linda had been quite hilarious at first. The thought of Near actually suffering emotionally for a change was admittedly delightful, and Mello had spent a good half of the football game reflecting on this rather humorous turn of events.

However, he had suddenly been struck by how suspicious the whole damn thing was. Near, while rarely personable in any case, had always avoided Linda like the plague. Mello had never seen the younger boy even glance in Linda's direction, much less exhibit any signs of infatuation with her. Had his feelings suddenly changed, or was there something else afoot?

The first thing that came to mind was, of course, revenge. The little show with the underpants earlier had been cruel even by Mello's standards, and Near had obviously been humiliated. If there was anything that would cause Near to take action against someone, it would probably be embarrassment. The boy hated to show emotion, that much had always been evident, and he had probably been horrified at the accidental blush.

But how the hell could a crush on Linda even begin to injure Mello? He certainly didn't have any feelings for Linda, and didn't give a damn if Near spent all his time staring lustfully in her direction for the rest of time. Maybe Near had gotten the wrong impression from Mello's kiss; had he decided that Mello liked _him_?

No, that was impossible. Near had known exactly what Mello was doing, he had seen as much on the boy's face. This Linda affair couldn't be a ploy to make Mello jealous, then.

So…what was it? Was it possible that Near had finally noticed the existence of his peers? Honestly, Mello had never thought such a day would come. But if Near had fallen for Linda, that was just in poor taste. There was a wide array of orphans far more attractive than Linda to choose from.

Like Mello. Not that he would be at all flattered if he was indeed the object of Near's affections, but it would at least be good blackmail material. Besides, Mello was obviously more desirable than Linda. He was good-looking, a genius, pretty damn hilarious…if Near was going to fall for anyone, it should be _him, _not some drippy geek with a chest like a countertop.

Mello cursed his young rival, not for the first time. The little sheep couldn't even do him the tiny honor of acknowledging Mello's amazing sexiness…what a bastard. Standing up from the floor with a snarl, Mello threw himself onto the stripped bed. A cloud of dried crabgrass and flaky mud rose briefly around him, and he wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"MATT!" He knew that the shout would carry over to the bedroom next door, where his closest friend spent most of his time with his eyes glued to some damn game or another.

"What do you want?" came the muted reply, irritation evident in the other's voice. Mello smirked.

"C'MERE!"

If the walls had been slightly thinner, Mello would have heard a loud sigh from the other room.

"Okay, okay. Hold on a damn second!"

There was a creaking sound on the other side of the wall, likely Matt hoisting himself off of his own bed. A few scant moments later, Mello's door was shoved open.

"Alright, what did you want?" Matt asked with a bored scowl, thumbs busy as ever on the buttons of his DS. Wandering across the floor with an unerring memory for the various obstacles spread across the carpet, he flopped down on the bed next to Mello.

Mello prodded a denim-covered leg absently with his toe. "I need to clean my fucking room. There's dirt in my damn _mattress._"

"What does that have to do with me?" Matt muttered, looking briefly at the bed before returning avid eyes to his game. Mello scowled at him in return, flipping onto his side and staring accusingly at his friend.

"What, you don't care at all? You couldn't bother to tell me how damn gross it is in here?" he demanded, poking the uncaring ginger in the chest. Matt, without missing a single move, plucked the finger from his shirt and deposited it firmly onto Mello's bony hip.

"It's been gross in here since day one, mate," he responded, shifting away from any more poke-attacks. There was a sudden crinkling noise rather close to his ear, and they both started.

"What was that?" Mello asked, shoving Matt's head out of the way and fishing a crumpled piece of paper from beneath a shock of ginger hair. "It's a note from someone."

"Who?" Matt inquired innocently, immediately assuming his best poker face. Damn, he had hoped Mello would find the note by himself—Near would be pissed if Matt gave away the whole thing by acting as if he knew something.

"It doesn't say from who," Mello murmured, scanning the brief note in an instant. "It's…a secret admirer. What the hell is this all about?"

Matt snorted. "Here, let me see that." Plucking the sheet from Mello's girly hands, he reread his own handwriting.

"Oh look, Mel, they even complimented your hair. How sweet."

Mello frowned darkly at him, refusing to feel flattered. Stupid secret admirer.

"Well, they obviously think you're sexy. Wonder who it is?" Matt handed the note back to the blond, grinning slightly. Mello, however, simply examined the note again. "That's…strange," he murmured, eyebrows furrowing.

"What's strange?" Matt asked, hoping that Mello hadn't recognized anything that could give away the plan.

"This isn't in the handwriting of anyone here," Mello said, all feminine affectations gone as he focused his attention entirely upon the mysterious missive. "It's been deliberately disguised."

"Yeah, so what?" Matt said, keeping the nervous tension from his voice. "That's hardly surprising, they just don't want you to recognize them."

"But, whoever did this assumes that I would recognize their writing in the first place. Not many people know that I've memorized everyone's writing, so this narrows it down to someone who is close enough to me that I'd know their handwriting immediately."

Matt made a vaguely affirmative noise, unease growing by the second. He had forgotten just how clever Mello was when something grabbed his attention. Had Near miscalculated as well? If so, they were absolutely screwed.

"Now, that narrows it down to about five people, the ones who I spend the most time with. This person has to be able to disguise their handwriting, or know someone who can do it for them. They probably know where my room is, although they could have asked someone. They obviously think that if they told me who they actually were, I'd be upset…that makes the list even smaller."

Matt, by this point, had passed beyond far beyond unease and was dancing about in "scared shitless" territory. Mello was going to see through this in an instant…and it would almost definitely be Matt who took the blame for aiding Near.

Well, that was just great.

Mello, after a moment of brief silence, made a sort of 'hm!' sound. Matt's head swiveled around instantly. "What?"

Mello stared at him. "Matt…is it really Linda that Near likes?" he asked suspiciously, watching his friend carefully for any reaction. Matt, demonstrating admirable restraint, looked doom right in its cold blue eyes. And lied through his teeth.

"Yeah, it's Linda. He's pretty head-over-heels. Well, for Near anyway." Purposefully widening his eyes, he added, "What, you don't think _he's _the one who sent the note?"

Mello frowned. "He's one of two options. And since you two were working on _something _today, it makes the most sense."

"Mate, it's not Near. He's got a serious creeper-thing for Linda. Why the hell would he like you, anyway? You're a total bastard to the bloke. Not in a sexy way, either."

Mello sighed, crossing his arms and looking briefly angry. "Well, fine. Near likes goddamn Linda, then." He was silent for another moment. Matt, feeling relieved, stared at his pensive face.

To his horror, when Mello fixed his eyes on him again, they were still full of suspicion.

"You know, Matt…if it isn't Near, then it's gotta be only one other person." Then, the blond softened his gaze slightly. Matt blinked.

"Matt…" Mello muttered, an unreadable expression on his face.

"What?" Matt asked nervously.

"Do you…" Mello sighed, running a tense hand through long hair. "Do you like me?"

Matt choked. "No!" he said, horrified. "What the hell, Mello?"

"I told you, it's either Near or someone else! And that's you, Matt. I know you can forge your writing, we're obviously really close… and of course you wouldn't want to tell me it was you." He placed a hand on the other boy's shoulder, with an entirely uncharacteristic look of compassion on his face. "Seriously, Matt, did you write this?"

"NO!" Matt shouted, pulling away from Mello. "That's just creepy, mate!"

"But it has to be you or Near! And you said yourself, it isn't Near! Look, Matt, I can see why you'd be embarrassed…"

"Which I'm NOT, because I'm not in love with you!"

"…but, I mean, I don't care if you like me. Hell, lots of people do." He grinned, patting Matt's shoulder comfortingly.

"Look, Mello, I swear I don't like you! At all! I like ROGER more than I like you—"

Mello interrupted, leaning closer to the ginger. "You didn't need to be afraid," he murmured, eyes going dangerously sparkly. "I mean, I never really thought about you that way before but hell, we could date."

Matt stared at the blond, entirely lost for words. God, this was so not going according to the proper plan. Near was not going to be happy when Matt told him just what a disaster this was turning out to be.

"I…don't think we shou—"

"It's gonna be a bit weird, I guess, but you're not hideous and I've done worse." Mello beamed at him, totally ignoring all protests from the horrified Matt.

Mello stood up from the bed, bringing a still-protesting Matt with him. Staring at the indent left by the gamer's body, he laughed. "Look! You even brought me chocolate!"

XXXXXXXX

Near was sitting peacefully in the middle of his darkened room when a cacophony of agitated knocks sounded against his door. Nonexistent eyebrows creasing slightly, he opened his eyes. "Yes?"

The knocks ceased, and there came a sound of someone leaning against the wood of the door. "It's Matt. I need to talk to you."

Near slowly raised his body off the floor, shedding plastic action figures as he stood. Padding across to the door, he popped the lock in the knob and opened it slowly. Matt slumped inwards, looking like a shell of the boy he had been just that afternoon.

"Matt?" Near asked, a very slight concern tinting his voice. "Whatever has gone wrong?"

"Mello," came the muffled reply, as Matt draped himself across Near's rarely-used bed. "We underestimated him."

Near frowned. "Yes, I suppose that's possible," he said softly, perching on the edge of the bed at a safe distance from Matt's dejected form. "What precisely happened?"

Matt sighed into the white bedspread, turning his head so that one anguished goggle-eye peered at the boy. "Well, I was there when he found the note."

Near returned his gaze uncomprehendingly. "How is that a problem?"

"Here, I'll tell you the whole damn story," Matt muttered, still facedown upon the bed. "I was there when he found it, and he immediately started trying to figure out who it was from. He worked it out pretty quickly, too."

Matt felt the vibrations through the bedspread as Near suddenly tensed.

"He…knows that I am the one who put it there?" Near asked, his voice very quiet. To his relief, Matt shook his head.

"No. I mean, that's what he thought at first. But I fed him this utter crap about how much you loved Linda, and he believed me."

Near relaxed, staring curiously at Matt. "If that is so, why are you this miserable?"

Matt snorted into the bed, shoulders hunching in what seemed to be agony. "Well, apparently, if it wasn't you then it had to be me."

"What?" Near asked, not following at all. He stared at the ginger hair of the boy next to him, looking at his miserable form in confusion. What had gone wrong?

"Mello thinks that I'm the one who likes him now. It was either you or me, do you get it now?"

"Oh," Near said, feeling faintly sick. Then again. "Oh."

"No, wait, it gets worse," Matt said, chuckling weakly. "So after he decides that I'm his secret admirer—something I'd never even consider doing, by the way—he then tells me that he doesn't mind if I like him, and that we should date. Just bowls right over everything I say, all happy-like that he's got a new boyfriend."

"A new boyfriend?…" Near stared at what he could see of Matt in blank horror. "Does that mean that you and he are…"

"We're going to the pictures on Saturday," Matt mumbled, sounding for all the world as though he was talking of his own execution.

For a moment, all he heard was silence, and the sound of Near's quiet breathing. Then, to his utter surprise, he was being pushed off of the bed. Landing on the plushly carpeted white floor, he stared in amazement at the smaller boy.

Although it wouldn't have been obvious on any other teenager, Matt could see that Near was furious. It was actually sort of amazing to watch the pale boy's features contort as he struggled to hide his anger; Matt had never seen Near in such a mood.

He was brought out of his reflections when Near dropped down to land on his chest with a rib-crunching thump. This time, the collision was not accidental; that much was obvious by the look in Near's eyes.

Straddling Matt's narrow ribcage clumsily, Near grabbed twin fistfuls of the gamer's shirtfront and pulled Matt's stunned face to his eye level.

"How dare you agree to such a thing?" he whispered tightly, his face still betraying only the slightest emotion. "Have you sabotaged my efforts, Matt?"

Matt stared at the boy in amazement. "Why would I want to do that?" Near's eyes, only a tiny distance from his own, narrowed.

"It is only natural that you would betray me. What loyalty do you have to me? But I had hoped that you would at least have enough integrity to keep your word and not humiliate me…I suppose that was foolish."

"Near, I—" Matt leaned backwards a bit as Near's minty breath blew into his face, only to be jerked forwards again by small hands.

"Or, did you simply have designs upon him all along? Did you use me to accomplish what you couldn't do yourself?" While Near's voice was still kept at its regular, even pitch and tone, there was a certain menace in his quiet words. "Is that the only reason you agreed to this, Matt? To further your own cause?"

"No," Matt said, scowling at Near's ever-somber face. "I don't like Mello! At all! That's exactly why we're _friends_! The idea of ever dating him makes me want to bathe in boiling water, for god's sake!" Panting, he glared at Near, who had the grace to look slightly cowed.

"Matt, if you are being honest…" he began, loosening his grip minutely on Matt's collar. "…I suppose I may have overreacted. I apologize."

Matt coughed slightly, giving a pointed look to the small fingers entangled in his shirt. Near released him, an unfortunate consequence of which was Matt's head banging to the ground. From his perch on Matt's chest, Near stared uncomfortably at the ginger.

"So, you're satisfied that I'm not trying to ruin you?" Matt asked awkwardly, bringing up his hands in case of another shirtfront attack. Near nodded, twisting a finger once more into his hair. "Yes, Matt, I believe you. But now, we must think of a way out of this situation."

"I agree. Emphatically," Matt said, wincing at the memory of Mello's lecherous face. "But how are we going to get out of this one? I mean, Mello thinks I'm in love with him no matter what I say…you are in love with him, but I've managed to thoroughly convince him that you're _not_, and you still won't just confess to him. Are there any contingency plans, here?"

Near smiled a tiny, half-moon creeper smile. "Of course there are, Matt. If I wish to be the next L, I must be prepared for all eventualities. You should learn to do the same." Seeing Matt's uninterested expression, he changed tracks. "In this case, I think that we should simply continue with the secret admirer notes. This will persuade Mello that you are not, in fact, infatuated with him, and the plan will go on as scheduled."

"No, it won't," Matt interjected. "Remember, he narrowed it down to two options, you or me. If you keep up with the notes, he'll _know _it's you."

Near frowned. "You are correct. In that case, I will simply have to employ a tactic I sincerely hoped to avoid."

Matt raised an eyebrow, wondering just how hardcore any of Near's tactics could be. "And what's that? Are you going to place an ad in the paper?"

Near sighed, disgusted at what he perceived as fatal immaturity. "No, Matt. I will obviously have to seduce Mello away from you. It will solve both of our problems. I will have Mello, and you…won't have Mello."

Staring blankly, Matt allowed his mind to process the strange things that had just been said. "You…you're going to seduce Mello? Is there any possible way for you to do that, Near?"

The smaller boy just looked at him. Matt added, "You are definitely not the seductive type. Even if you did somehow manage to change your appearance, you're about as subtle as…" he thought for a moment. "…as something that is not at all subtle. He would know right away what you were doing, don't you think?"

Near nodded reluctantly. "It will require work, certainly, but I think that with practice I will be able to attract Mello. The benefit of it being Mello is that, as an emotional person, he will be easier to sway. If he was, for instance, like me, then he would simply ignore any advances. But with Mello, he cannot help but become involved when his worst enemy suddenly takes romantic interest in him. While he may see this as a victory at first, I can only say that there is a good chance he will develop an affection for me. After all, our rivalry is founded upon strong emotions, and I have been assured that hatred is often a mask for other, deeper feelings."

Matt snorted. "Well, you've obviously been eavesdropping on Linda…"

"She does know rather a lot about human emotion," Near replied primly, drawing a knee up and resting a delicate hand on the knobby bone of his kneecap.

Matt twitched. "Near…"

"Yes, Matt?" the big-eyed boy asked, staring at him with a serious gaze.

"Get off of my chest. Now."

XXXXXX

A/N: so yeah, that's it for today folks. It's amazing how NINE pages boil down to so little, eh? Blame my trigger-happy finger on the "enter" key, I guess. I hope you're still in love with my little fic, and if you're not, you should tell me. Really, I don't mind. OH! does anyone wanna be my beta? I won't pester you constantly, just when my self-esteem writerwise is low. Tell me if you're interested, mmkay? That would be sweet of you.

Chapter seven within a week, I promise! Really!


	7. Look Out Sunshine!

Um…wow. Heh heh. Look, I realize that this chapter is a lot later than any of us anticipated. The sad part is, I had it finished two weeks ago, beta'ed and everything, and then I suddenly got the urge to rewrite the ending (which was crappy). So, I deleted the nastiness that was there and started to revise it a bit…and THEN, I suddenly realized that I was going to be taking midterms the next week and I needed to be studying, not writing fanfiction.

So, I studied. (And got 100 percent on my incredibly difficult Algebra II midterm, so it was worth it.) Unfortunately, after I was done with this, I spent about three days catching up on the sleep I had missed. And then, I procrastinated. Like mad. Watched some terrible movies (anyone here seen "Dark Floors?" Go on, we're not judging you), spent some time drawing and translating things into Spanish for my own nerdy amusement.

But now, as my tapioca pearls (for bubble tea) boil silently in the kitchen, I am posting this new chapter. As a kind-of reward for your patience, it's a bit longer than the previous ones! Thanks so much for sticking with me while I lazed about, or at least I hope you stuck with me. Hahahah.

Thank you SO BLOODY MUCH, Forbiddensoul562. You're an awesome beta, and without you this chapter would be kind of lame. Well alright, totally lame. Thanks, o fabulous one!

REVIEWS? Yes, I know I've totally betrayed your trust, but REVIEWS? I still live off of them.

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note. I do not own David Bowie either, which is good since this chapter does not mention him. At all.

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Near shifted restlessly in his seat as the Wammy House's black car rounded another perilous Winchester corner. Plucking at the seatbelt that prevented him from assuming his customary crouch, he glanced out the windshield in irritation. The trees and remote cottages that surrounded Wammy's had begun to give way to the outskirts of town, the occasional local store or doctor's office flashing by as the occupants of the car wound their sedate way towards the town center.

Roger, having remained silent for five minutes or so, tilted the rearview mirror to observe his charge in the backseat.

"It's a surprise to see you going into town, Near. I thought you preferred to spend your weekends otherwise."

Near glanced with slight irritation at Roger's eyes in the mirror. "I find it beneficial to occasionally leave Wammy's," he said lowly, his knees once more twitching uncomfortably at his unaccustomed posture. "Besides, I have accumulated a fair amount of pocket money over the last year or so. I thought perhaps that I would stop by the bookstore or toy shop and make a few purchases."

The car pitched slightly, encountering one of the potholes that could often be found en route to the town. Roger's eyes, the only part visible in the mirror, crinkled cheerily.

"Well, it's good to know that you're not too dedicated to your work, Near. I'm sure it'll be great to escape from Wammy's for a bit, eh?"

Near smiled falsely in return, eyes trained on the upcoming road.

It was customary at Wammy's to allow the orphans three days each month to visit the town. Although Winchester was by no means a booming metropolis, it was a pleasant enough place in which to shop and stroll about with friends. The main attractions consisted entirely of the movie theater, several clothes shops, and a small café, the latter being the preferred place to lurk after a full day of blowing one's money on jellybeans and cheap clothing.

It had been fortunate for Near that Roger was visiting Winchester on this particular day; most of the children simply walked or took the bus to town. Near regarded both of these activities with equal scorn, and so had persuaded Roger to take on a passenger for this particular trip.

Near had visited the town only twice before in all of his years at Wammy's. This was the first time he had gone willingly; the previous two visits had been to the doctor, after he had somehow managed to contract pneumonia one summer and a hacking cough the year immediately after.

He supposed it would be interesting to see Winchester through eyes that were, for once, not bloodshot or crusty. Unfortunately, most of his time here would be spent with one goal in mind. Matt, after eluding his new boyfriend the night before, had stopped by Near's room with the message that he and Mello would be seeing a movie at three-thirty the next day, and that it would be much appreciated if Near happened to coincidentally attend the same showing.

Obviously, Matt had now decided that even the phlegmatic company of Near was vastly preferable to spending the duration of a movie alone with Mello. The ginger seemed to grow more agitated with his new relationship every time Near saw him, and it hadn't even been a week since he and Mello had started dating.

Matt had been willing to help Near in his unfortunate attempts at seducing Mello all along. Recent events had only heightened his desire to help the albino; if Near could somehow manage to deflect Mello's attention from the gamer, then Matt would cheerfully give his dying breath to the cause.

After a few more silent minutes of driving, Roger finally reached Winchester's main street, which featured a grassy lawn and decorative fountain at the center. As the car came to a stop, Near unbuckled the cursed seatbelt and opened the door.

"Near," Roger said firmly as the boy slowly began to clamber out of the backseat.

The pale boy stopped, looking curiously at the older man.

"Don't forget your shoes, you can't walk around the town in just socks," Roger reminded him gently, gesturing to the shoes that he had insisted Near bring along.

Nodding, Near reluctantly reached beneath his seat for the white track shoes that usually rested at the very back of his closet. "Thank you for driving me here, Roger," he said, shoving awkward feet into the shoes with a grimace.

Roger smiled again, this time turning to face Near. "It's no trouble; I had some business in town today as well, as you'll recall. I'll be back to get you at seven, so please be here at the fountain by then."

"Certainly, Roger," Near agreed, tying the laces of his shoes with a final lopsided flourish. After patting his oversized breast pocket in confirmation that his money for the day was still secure, he hopped out of the car. "I shall see you later this evening, then."

As the black vehicle set off for a different part of the town, Near stood at the edge of the street, toeing absently at uncomfortable shoes. He was forced to confess that he had absolutely no idea of where to go now. The movie theater was at the east end of town, he knew that much, but there were a few places he had to stop by before three-thirty.

The candy shop was first on his list. After rummaging once more through Wammy's secret candy stash in the pantry, he had discovered that there was really no worthwhile chocolate left that he could potentially give to Mello. The Winchester candy shop, while famous primarily for its peculiar variety of jellybeans and marshmallows, also sold fairly decent chocolate. This was according entirely to Mello, who occasionally gave loud lectures during dinner about what local food was utter crap and what was worth trying. Near, at the most recent of these diatribes, had listened closely and taken careful note of Mello's preferences.

It was unfortunate, really, that his skills as a detective were being put to such a base use. Near could not imagine that regular people required such extensive skills at observation when they wished to attract someone.

Near recalled all he had heard about the candy shop, wondering if someone had mentioned its location in passing. The name of the place was, as he recalled, Primrose Confections. While the unfortunate moniker would usually be enough to cause him to keep his distance, Near was nothing if not dedicated when it came to his own, personal projects.

However, where on Earth _was _Primrose Confections? All anyone had ever said about the subject was that it was 'next to the stationery shop.' This would only be helpful if Near knew where the stationery shop itself was, which he certainly did not.

From his location at the fountain, he could see a small book store, the café, and a couple of the cluttered little gimcrack shops that tend to spring up in every reasonably populated town on earth. Which of the quaint side streets was more likely to contain both a candy and a stationery shop? He wasn't entirely sure of the criteria for such things.

His dilemma was quickly solved when he spotted a familiar face crossing the street towards him. Ordinarily, the sight of Linda would cause him to steadily proceed in the other direction, but at this particular moment she was a valuable source of information.

Seeing Linda here was not actually surprising; after every trip to Winchester, she would invariably come back to Wammy's lugging great armfuls of art supplies and clothing. Near had originally planned to avoid her if he happened to spot her during the day, but he supposed that it couldn't be too painful to simply ask her where the candy shop was.

Near waited patiently until Linda spotted him, raising her arm in a cheery wave as she did so. She inevitably veered towards him, several of her bland Wammy's accomplices in tow.

"Near! I've never seen you in town before," she exclaimed, face bright but surprised. Shifting a newly-bought stack of drawing materials to her left arm, she gave the small boy an entirely unwelcome hug.

"So, what are you doing here?" she asked, plopping down on the side of the fountain and beaming up at Near's expressionless face.

"I have a bit of money to spend, so I thought I would perhaps buy a book or some toys. However, I have a question to ask you." He also perched on the side of the fountain, keeping a safe distance from the brunette girl to his right.

"Yes?" Linda asked brightly, motioning for her entourage to sit. They complied, starting an inane conversation amongst themselves that Near was completely unable to follow.

"Could you possibly tell me where Primrose Confections is? I need to buy a gift for…someone, and I've never gotten the chance to see the town properly before."

"Sure!" Linda said in delight, standing up again immediately. "Hey, what a coincidence! we were just going there! See, they have excellent jellybeans…" The other girls (whose names Near could never quite get straight) nodded in enthusiasm, sounding a chorus of vague agreements.

Gripping Near's arm, Linda strode off towards a cheery side street, leaving no room for complaints from her companion. "You know, Near, if you're not doing anything else today you should come shopping with us! I bet you'd have fun."

Picturing, with horror, an entire day spent with Linda, Near replied hastily. "I've got to go see a movie at three-thirty. After that, I must return to Wammy's."

Linda giggled. "Well, it's only eleven-thirty right now! How long do you plan on being at the candy shop, anyway? Come on, Near, just go to one store with us. We need a masculine eye, after all! It's no good trying on clothes without someone to tell us how we look!"

This was an utter flattery on Linda's part, as Near's masculinity was middling-to-nonexistent. In fact, his features were decidedly more feminine than some of Linda's friends'; this example quite notably including the unfortunate girl with the lantern jaw and flat feet.

After weighing his options carefully, Near sighed with reluctance. "I will accompany you to a single store, Linda. Afterwards, I wish to be left alone."

Entirely accustomed to Near's bluntness, Linda smiled sweetly in agreement. "Awesome! Maybe we can even get you some _nice _clothes."

"What precisely is wrong with my clothing?" Near asked, looking blankly at the girl next to him.

"Oh, nothing," she said, waving him off. "Look, we're here already! See, it's pretty easy to find!"

It was indeed easy; only five shops down the nearest road. Near was beginning to wish that he had set out in search of it himself instead of relying on Linda. At the very worst, it would have only taken him about twenty minutes to find alone, but now Linda had attached herself to him due to his lack of independence. Really, he had to start planning these things more precisely.

Primrose Confections looked exactly like the sort of shop that should be named "Primrose Confections;" small, bright and cluttered, and painted a soft pastel purple that clashed oddly with the brown shops on either side.

As Linda and Near's group strolled in, an obnoxiously adorable-sounding bell tinkled in an endearing manner. Just to complete the picture of festering, oozing preciousness, the woman behind the counter was a matronly sort wearing—much to Near's disbelief—a bona fide frilly apron.

"Hello, Linda!" she greeted them. "And girls, how do you do…oh, who's this?"

Near remained silent, eyes mapping out an escape route in case the woman suddenly transformed into a death-dealing automobile robot. You never knew with strangers.

"This is my friend Near!" Linda replied, shaking his wrist violently for emphasis. "He's going to buy candy for someone!"

"Oooh, a girl?" the woman asked, winking in an absolutely horrifying manner at the pale boy.

Realizing that the retort, _no, he only looks a bit like a girl _would probably not be well-received, Near shrugged in an entirely ambiguous fashion.

"What sorts of chocolate do you have?" he asked quietly, hoping to distract from any questions about his love life. It worked, judging by the way he could nearly see the gears switching in the woman's head.

"Ah, we have lots of chocolates! Caramels, buttercreams, truffles…what were you looking for?"

Near narrowed his eyes at the quickly rattled-off list, not entirely sure what each item actually was. After all, he was the sort to subsist on porridge and the occasional apple, not fancifully-named chocolates for six dollars a pop.

"Do you have some regular chocolate bars?" he ventured, staring with vague confusion at the display of multicolored jellybeans decorating a far wall.

"Of course we do! Green and Black, that's a favorite, but we've got some local things as well and even some gourmet stuff! Here, take a look!" Shuffling out from behind the counter, the woman beckoned Near over to a basket display.

Linda, who had lost interest a minute or so ago and was now shoveling jellybeans into a clear plastic bag, flashed him the thumbs-up. Near winced. Why were those of his age group so reliant on pitiful hand signals?

There was indeed an excellent variety of chocolate bars; although tempted to purchase something exotic just to earn points for effort, Near settled on three bars of Green and Black dark chocolate. Gathering them in cautious arms, he approached the counter, where the cheerful woman was now rearranging a bowl of small mint chocolates.

"Got all you need, dear?" the woman asked jovially, ringing up the purchase; Near hoped that she wouldn't wink again. He had no contingency plan for excess winking.

"Yes, I think that this will be suitable." Remembering a halfhearted lecture from Roger, he added, "thank you."

"Of course, dear! Now, what'll it be for you?" Linda stepped forward, depositing her sack of jellybeans and a bag of pretzels covered in what appeared to be baby teeth. To his relief, the bag proclaimed them to be coated with peppermint and white chocolate, nothing more.

"Just this, thanks!" Linda said brightly to the saleswoman, beaming at her purchases in they were carefully bagged.

Near attempted to walk out of the shop, but Linda's head snapped around with the unnerving accuracy of a python's. "Wait for us, Near, it will only be a second until we're done!" Behind her in the queue, the nameless girls shot accusing glances at him.

Nodding in mute agreement, Near located a twist of curly white hair and firmly ensnared his fingers in it. The troupe of girls finally finished with their purchases, surrounding him in a shampoo-scented wave.

"Ready, Near?" Linda asked, once more seizing him by the wrist "So, I thought we could stop by that shop with the nice dresses first, then that other one with the shoes, and then maybe even the sort of punk one with all of those ancient T-shirts…."

"Linda, I only agreed to go to one shop." He paused, not seeing any sign of Linda having heard his statement at all. "Linda? One shop. That's it," he repeated, bewildered by his companion's sudden deafness to his words.

Shaking her head at Near's naivete, Linda continued onwards. "Sure, Near. One shop."

With little confidence, Near followed her, the death grip on his wrist leaving him no choice.

XXXXXX

Matt stared blankly at one of the movie posters decorating the lobby of the theater. Across from him, Mello chattered eagerly, devouring a cheap hot dog with alarming gusto. Occasionally, Matt would twitch as he felt a slender hand rest itself on his thigh, and glare at his friend—now boyfriend—which had the effect of doing absolutely nothing to impede Mello's efforts.

This was unbearable. Mello following him about, monopolizing his time—_that _he was used to, thanks to their long friendship. Even the kisses and hugs and subtle gropes weren't so terrible, as all he really had to do was close his eyes and wait for Mello to lose interest. No, it wasn't any of these things that had fed up Matt so entirely.

The trouble was, the blond boy had criticized his games. Now, Matt was an easygoing type, but if there was one thing he was truly defensive of, it was his addiction to videogames. Previously to this ill-conceived "relationship," Mello had obviously been irritated by the games but had chosen to ignore them. They had only been dating for four days, for god's sake, but now Mello was accusing Matt of choosing his games over the chance to be groped furiously against a wall. Of course, that was exactly what Matt was doing, having absolutely no interest in a romantic relationship with his best friend.

In fact, he made a point to mention how much he _didn't _want to date Mello at least twice a day, always to the blond's face. Somehow, Mello managed to interpret this as bashfulness on Matt's part, and had been sticking to Matt like a particularly horny sort of glue for the past six days.

Matt looked up from his ridiculously large soft drink, noticing that Mello had fallen quiet. The absent grin that had graced his friend's face for the past hour or so had disappeared and a thoughtful scowl had taken its place.

What had caused this reaction was the sight of Near, standing at the ticket counter and peering dully at the list of shows.

Matt internally rejoiced. He had strongly believed that Near wouldn't come, and had resigned himself to being relentlessly hit upon for the entire duration of the movie. But it appeared the urge to see Mello had overpowered Near's innate hatred of the public world and lured the ghostly child from Wammy's, thus saving Matt from two hours of incredible awkwardness.

"Why is _that _here?" Mello asked in an irritated tone, slamming down what remained of his hot dog with surprising grace. "The little creep never leaves Wammy's. Just our luck…"

Near had bought his ticket, and having spotted Mello and Matt, he shuffled slowly over towards their table.

"How surprising it is to encounter you here," he muttered in a hurried monotone, taking a precarious seat on the chair to the side of Matt. Mello scowled flatly at him.

"Why are you here, sheep?" the blonde demanded, leaning across the table to glare at his rival. Near stared back.

"I was supposed to meet someone," he said coolly. "But I'm afraid it appears as though they are not here." Picking up Matt's ticket with delicate fingers, he added, "How coincidental…we are going to the same showing. Perhaps I shall sit with you both?" This question was delivered with all the subtlety of a punch to the face, but Mello appeared not to notice the awkward transition.

Matt nodded eagerly, not even flinching when Mello's vicious gaze landed upon him. "Yeah, I don't see why not," the gamer contributed, even as he saw Mello forming an unpleasant retort.

"_Actually, _Near, Matt and I were on a date. You might not be familiar with the concept, but basically it means that you're not welcome. I'm sure you can find another seat…away from us." Mello said this last bit in a highly pointed tone, raising nonexistent eyebrows at the paler boy.

Matt mentally applauded. Mello hadn't even raised his voice…his control was only getting better and better. But unfortunately, he was going to have to test those boundaries a bit more if he wanted to keep Near's plan running smoothly.

"Come on, Mello, we've spent the whole day together. So what if Near sits by us? If we leave him alone, he might get raped or something."

Near's eyes widened at this. Mello, noticing something peculiar, leaned in further.

"What the hell do you have on your eyes?" he asked suspiciously. "Is that makeup?"

Near frowned slightly. "Yes. Linda persuaded me to accompany her to the drugstore, and insisted that we all make use of the free samples. I'm not entirely sure of how to wash mine off." He stared flatly at them both, only the slightest tint of embarrassment washing across his features.

Matt and Mello somehow managed to snort in tandem.

Come to think, Near was looking a bit peculiar. For one, he was wearing shoes, and it appeared that Linda had also managed to switch his normal baggy shirt to what seemed to be a similar shirt made for a young woman. As Near decidedly lacked breasts, the shirt fit him quite strangely. He was attempting to counteract this with an even more pronounced slouch than usual. If this was Linda's idea of a makeover, then it appeared her talent for art did not extend to men's fashion.

"You look like a transvestite," Mello said bluntly. Unfortunately, Matt had to agree.

Near, refusing to react to the statement, simply stared at the sticky surface of the table. "I believe we have twenty minutes or so before they allow us in the theater…"

"That's why we're sitting here," Matt volunteered. "Do you want to go get something to eat?"

Near glanced at the chewed remains of Mello's hot dog and Matt's gigantic beverage, and quietly shook his head. "I don't believe that's necessary. In fact, I brought some food of my own."

Reaching into one of the two shopping bags that accompanied him, he pulled out an assortment of sweets and deposited them gently on the table. There was Mello's chocolate, of course, and Linda had given him a massive amount of jellybeans and several peppermint-chocolate pretzels as a farewell gift. Even without looking at the boy, he felt Mello tense.

Picking up a pretzel, he crunched down gently and tried to ignore the cloyingly sweet taste. Mello's gaze was fixed firmly on the chocolate, a hungry gaze flitting about his blue eyes. Near gave a tiny smile.

"Would you perhaps like some chocolate, Mello?" he asked innocently, pushing an unopened bar towards the blonde. Mello scowled at him.

"I didn't ask for any."

"I was only offering," Near replied, finishing the pretzel and immediately regretting the act. "Linda decided that I needed a vast amount of sweets, and you seem to be much more interested in them than myself."

Matt winced. This was obviously Near's idea of flirting, and it was incredibly ineffective. Any moment now, Mello would throw that chocolate in his face.

Wait. No, Mello was…picking it up? Amazing.

"Fine," Mello said harshly, quickly unwrapping the tempting food and snapping off a large chunk with shiny teeth. "I guess since you haven't touched it, or anything."

"I am glad that Mello is able to enjoy the sweets," Near murmured. "I have never been particularly fond of them, myself."

Mello scowled again, but didn't comment. Chocolate always put him in a good mood, regardless of the company.

Roughly ten minutes later, after a session of hideously awkward conversation between the three boys, they wandered over to their theater. The previous show had just ended, and crowd of bored young people poured out of the theater only to rush to the restrooms.

Mello, Matt, and Near filed in, with the slowly shuffling albino bringing up the rear. Realizing that they were the first in there for their showing, Mello promptly plopped down in the rough center of the theater. Matt sat down next to him, nearly sprawling on top of the blond when a discarded nacho container caught under one booted foot.

Near, much to Mello's horror, proceeded to sit right next to his moody rival. The seat creaked as the pale young man hoisted his thin body into its customary crouch, setting his shopping bags carefully on the empty seat next to him.

Mello glared, the effect slightly dimmed by the darkness of the theater. "If you're going to sit next to me, at least sit _normally,_" he hissed. "I don't want people leaning down to complain that you're blocking their view."

Near slowly nodded, reluctantly slipping back into a normal sitting position. Uncomfortable with such a pose, he immediately started to fidget.

Mello clenched his teeth. "Near, will you just…" He stared at the silent teen, whose eyes were fixed coolly on him, and sighed. "Just give me some more chocolate, damn it."

Near complied, handing Mello the second of the chocolate bars. Matt, leaning back and peering around Mello's slender shoulders, tipped his goggles up and winked at Near. Slightly confused, Near widened dark blue eyes at the other.

Matt, sighing in amusement, lowered the goggles again and scootched slightly to the left as Mello's hand attempted to befriend his thigh.

Eventually, the movie started and the three sat in relative silence for the full one hundred and twenty minutes. As it was a horror movie, Mello would occasionally attempt to pull the old "pull-your-date-closer-with-every-scary-part" trick, but Matt soon grew wise to this and expertly ducked Mello's arm at every try.

It was, he reflected, truly amazing that Mello still thought Matt was interested in him. After nearly an entire week of running away, flinching, and twitching sporadically every time Mello tried to touch him, one would think that the blond would finally get the message.

Near, while mostly ignored by the other two, spent much of the movie casting envious glances at Matt and Mello. Certainly, Matt didn't actually want Mello's attention, but it was still irritating to see the affection that the blond heaped upon his ginger boyfriend.

At one point during the film when the onscreen heroine was suddenly attacked, Mello jumped and grabbed Near's wrist. After a moment, he realized his actions and promptly withdrew his hand, grimacing as though Near's flesh had suddenly caught on fire. Near, who seemed to be blushing more and more easily these days, was glad of the darkness surrounding them.

The terrible movie finally ended as the last of the main characters met his fate. As the three boys left the theater—Near was quite stiff due to sitting in an unfamiliar position for the second time that day—Mello attempted to grab Matt's hand. Matt rather quickly snatched the appendage out of harm's way, leaving Mello's own hand to smack into Near's.

"Near, get out of the way!" Mello muttered angrily, shoving the pale boy aside.

Matt stopped suddenly, turning to look at the other two. "So, we've got some time before we have to go back to Wammy's… do you want to walk around a bit and look in the shops?"

"Sure," Mello said, then stopped dead. "Wait. You want to bring Near along, don't you?"

"What, you want to leave him here?" Matt asked, looking rather hurt on Near's behalf.

Near, for his part, examined the exchange with interest. It appeared that Matt was once again trying to help him lure away Mello. Even if it was only a gesture to save Matt's own skin, Near supposed that he appreciated the thought.

"Fine," Mello snapped, striding out of the theater and into the still-bright afternoon sunlight. "Near can come. Now, let's go."

"All right," Matt said, "Where are we going? Near?"

"Why are you asking him?" Mello growled, bouncing on the balls of his feet in impatience.

"I think we should go wherever Mello wants to," Near supplied, ducking his head as sunlight washed over them.

"Well, _Mello _wants to go to the café," the blonde retorted, already walking in that direction.

Matt shrugged, beginning to follow. "The café it is," he muttered to Near, motioning for the albino to walk next to him. "So, how goes the plan?"

Near cast a careful glance to the boy in front of them, but the blonde appeared to be focused only on the sidewalk under his feet. "It is not going particularly well, Matt," he supplied, a faint frown coloring his round face. "I had expected it to be rather easier than this, quite honestly," he continued. Matt snorted.

"Since when has anything to do with Mello ever been easy?" he asked dryly, watching as Mello viciously kicked a rock out of his path of movement. "You'd probably be better off just watching soap operas."

Near looked at him in irritation. "I don't believe that's what you said earlier."

"It was a joke," Matt muttered, grinning at the other boy. "Not a very good one, maybe, but definitely a joke."

"Oh," Near said softly.

Looking again at Mello and realizing the boy was paying absolutely no attention to his two companions, Matt frowned. Leaning over, he whispered to Near, "You really ought to just tell him."

Near stiffened, casting an incredulous look at the ginger. "Why would I do that? I've gone to a ridiculous extent to avoid doing precisely that."

Matt sighed. "Look, Near. I may not be the most charming person in England, but I know a damn sight more about these things than you do. Mello's never going to pick up on any affection you may have for him; he's spent far too many years convinced that you are, in fact, out to get him. Flirting with him is kind of obviously not working very well, as he now seems to be even more annoyed with you. Do you see my point, here?"

Near listened patiently to the explanation, then frowned. "I suppose you might be correct, but I'm rather weary of abandoning each course of action as soon as it begins. You don't believe that Mello will ever be convinced of my integrity if I continue to seduce him?"

"No," Matt said darkly, raising an eyebrow at the paler boy. "Although I'd hardly call what you've been doing 'seduction.' Look, you should just tell him. Even if he completely and utterly rejects you, is that so terrible? I doubt you're the type to be heartbroken."

Near considered these words as they continued to walk, his fingers twisting into his hair as he thought. Matt stared at him, waiting to see what strange response the quiet boy would produce.

"Fine," Near said flatly, hand dropping to his side once more.

Matt gaped, then closed his mouth as Mello turned to regard them with a suspicious look. "Really? You'll tell him?"

"It's what you suggested, isn't it?" Near replied, looking at the other with an unreadable expression.

"Yeah, but…I kind of expected you to not listen," Matt said uncomfortably. Near stared at him for an awkward moment, then nodded.

"While ordinarily I would simply trust my own opinions on the matter, you were right when you said that you have more experience. Whatever you advise me to do is quite likely more practical than any of the actions I have considered." Much to Matt's surprise, Near smiled at him, although it wouldn't have passed for such on any other face.

"Um…thanks, I guess." The ginger grinned back, rather pleased at the show of confidence from one of the most arrogant people he knew. "So, you going to tell him today or what?"

Near's eyes widened. "Today? Wouldn't you consider that rushing things a bit?"

"Nah," Matt replied cheerfully. "See, he's already suspicious of you, so if you don't tell him today he's just going to skulk around and bother you until he learns the truth. And of course, there's the obvious reason."

Near stared curiously at the other boy, nonexistent eyebrows furrowed. "The obvious reason? I don't think I quite understand."

"Well," Matt said, smirking a bit, "we're in town right now. So if he tries to kill you after you tell him, at least you'll have somewhere to run."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Welp, that ends this installment. So, will Near confess? Will Mello kick his skinny whitebread arse to the curb? Will Matt finally be free of Senor Gropey-fingers? Find out next time, I guess. And I promise that I will have the next chapter up a bit more promptly. For real, this time! Remember to review, ja? Love you forever if you do.


	8. A Certain Romance

Whew! So, I've just had an excellent weekend. There was an anime convention in my area, so I attended as Near. Probably the best part was that I got to be part of an "anime dating game" in which poor Near was paired off with an incredibly tall school girl from Haruhi Suzumiya. (keep in mind, I'm just a tad above five feet…she probably could have stuffed me into her pockets had she so wished) Anyway, it was quite fun, and I got heaps of praise for my apparently-scarily-accurate characterization of Near.

Um, anyway, that was irrelevant. So…new chapter! You excited? I know I am! Now, this one's kind of short, but I'm pretty sure it accomplished all that I had in mind so I'm not too disappointed with the length. Hopefully you won't be either! Some rather exciting stuff happens in this particular installment, so read carefully.

I hope you all had a good V-Day? I did, although I did have a pretty bad cold as well. Ugh.

On with the show!

But first—REVIEWS are delicious, and highly nutritious. REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!

Disclaimin' here: I am not the owner of the incredibly delicious work of fiction known as Death Note. However, I do own you. Dance, puppets, dance!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Near, you want a coffee?" Matt's voice sounded awkwardly from above the white-haired boy's shoulders. Near turned to meet the other's gaze, his hunched body teetering precariously as weight shifted to his right leg.

"No," he replied, providing no further insight. Matt nodded, digging his wallet out from a back pocket and flipping sadly through the scant cash that remained inside.

"Mello, what about you? A coffee?" Mello momentarily stopped glaring at his rival across the table and looked at his friend, levying a sullen gaze at the ginger's goggles.

"Coffee? Hell no, it's fucking bitter. Get me a mocha."

"Mochas have coffee in them," Matt commented, looking at the price board suspended over the café's counter. "And apparently, they're the most expensive beverage available here. It figures."

Mello, who had returned to his brooding silence, did not dignify this with a reply. Matt sighed and joined the queue of customers waiting to order their drinks.

This left Mello and Near to sit in uncomfortable silence, refusing to meet each other's eyes. Near, who seemed to be entirely absorbed with studying the wood grain of the table, steadfastly ignored Mello's angry gaze. The burning look was aimed at his left knee in order to avoid eye contact, but it was still a glare capable of melting titanium.

After a few more moments of quiet, Near turned to observe Matt's progress in line. The ginger was stuck behind a large woman who was apparently giving a passionate speech upon the decline of the printed word to the bemused cashier. With every wave of her beefy arm, a fold of flesh jiggled madly and obscured a good half of Matt's face from view. Catching Near's eye, Matt made a disgusted face and shrugged his shoulders.

Near turned back to the table. Instead of speaking to his silent companion, he opted to pull a deck of cards from his left breast pocket. He shuffled the deck with great speed, and flipped the cards down to the table in the bridging motion that Mello had never been quite able to master. After tapping the top and side edges of the deck on the hard wood of the table top, Near put a card facedown in front of him. More surprisingly, he also gave one to Mello.

The blonde looked up, startled. "Did I ask to play cards?" he questioned darkly, narrowing his eyes at the other boy. Near shrugged.

"I thought that since you don't appear in a talkative mood, we could play a game of cards to cut the monotony." Near dealt both he and Mello another facedown card directly on top of the first.

Mello frowned, his eyes now mere slits. "What card game?" he asked, suspicious.

"War. It's a game of chance, so please don't take your emotions out on me if you lose." Near smirked slightly, unable to resist taunting Mello even in the throes of a maddening crush.

A blue eye twitched in Mello's face, but the boy managed to get his irritation under control. "War? That's the most boring card game on the face of the planet," he said harshly, watching as another card flicked down onto his pile. Near's smirk widened exponentially.

"It doesn't have to be dull, Mello. Perhaps we could stake a wager on the outcome of the game?"

"Huh," Mello replied, looking thoughtful. "If you won?"

"You would cease to harass me for two weeks. A simple term, don't you agree?" Near finished dealing, and placed his hands delicately on top of the decreased deck in front of him.

Mello stared at him for a moment, and then nodded. "In return…if you win, you have to stay away from Matt."

Near looked surprised. "Matt? Why?"

"Because when you hang around Matt, you're just going to be bothering me in the bargain. Hell, look at today. We were supposed to be on a date, and then you showed up out of nowhere."

Near snorted, leveling a cold gaze at the blonde. "I refuse that condition. It's hardly viable."

"Tell me a better one, then," Mello retorted. Near tried not to grin outright. Ah, Mello…he had underestimated Near's intentions once again. Everything was proceeding quite admirably.

"Well, I don't wish to avoid Matt or anyone else at your whim, but I suppose I also need to satisfy what is surely your urge to humiliate me…"

Mello smiled darkly. "Thinking out loud, huh?" Near ignored him.

"I suppose that if you win, I shall…tell you something personal enough to be embarrassing. Is that sufficiently degrading for your tastes, Mello?"

"You have secrets?" Mello asked, looking amused. "Sure, that sounds perfect. Although I bet you don't really have anything interesting to say…or at least, you won't tell the truth."

"I promise that, if I lose this game, I shall be entirely truthful with you." Near held out a hand to shake, and after a brief look of disgust, Mello clasped the pale hand in his own.

"Deal."

Near chuckled uncomfortably; Mello stared at him. "What's so damn funny?"

"Oh," Near said, the smile sliding off of his face. "I thought that you had made a pun. As we are playing a card game, it is possible for the word 'deal' to take on a humorous double meaning…" He trailed off, rather disappointed that the one time it seemed he had gotten the joke, there hadn't been any joke to begin with.

Mello looked exasperated, but thankfully forbore to comment on Near's mistake. Instead, he picked up the top card on his deck and flipped it face-up on the café table. Near followed suit, his nine of hearts beating Mello's three of diamonds. Sliding the two cards to the side of his deck, Near laid down the next card.

By the time Near ran out of cards from his first deck, Matt had returned with beverages and the four aces had been revealed to be equally divided amongst Mello and Near. Matt, who had simply raised his eyebrows after finding a heated game of War going on at the previously silent table, sipped his coffee and observed the two participants.

Mello was leading by a slight margin, with maybe eight more cards than the white-haired boy. As he set down the bottom card of his deck and lost it to Near's king, he flipped his stack of won cards over and dealt from the top once more.

Near smiled inwardly, pleased that Mello was playing the game the way that Near had hoped. He had occasionally seen people shuffle their cards before starting a new deck, but it seemed that Mello had not yet caught on to Near's strategy.

Yes, there was a strategy. After some consideration, Near had determined that Mello would not accept an outright confession of his feelings. However, if Mello could be made to feel as though he was the one in charge of getting Near to reveal his secrets, then Near's chances of being taken seriously increased exponentially.

Therefore, the white-haired boy had engaged in the time-honored pastime of counting cards. Mello had been too distracted by their conversation to notice Near's attentive eyes on the cards in his hands, and both had been dealt hands that, when pitted against each other, would ensure victory for the blonde. For once, Near's objective was not to win this game; it was imperative that he lose to Mello and therefore be "forced" to reveal his feelings for the other.

All battles of wits aside, the game had grown rather heated. At the moment, Mello was losing, having surrendered an ace and two kings to his opponent in a minor war. Matt, entirely bored by the whole thing, had taken Mello's rapidly-cooling mocha and was carefully shredding a straw wrapper over the chocolaty liquid. Various bits of sodden paper floated around in chaotic patterns that unfortunately failed to amuse the gamer.

"Did you really have to pick one of the most tedious card games known to man?" he interjected, watching in desperate boredom as the two geniuses simultaneously flipped their cards onto the table. Mello shot him a dark glance.

"There's a bookshop next door, you know," he muttered, glaring as Near's jack overpowered his ten and both cards were dragged away.

Matt sighed. "I spent all of my money on your bloody _mocha._ Which you haven't even touched, might I add…" He stopped as Near perpetrated what could only be described as the least subtle wink in history, aimed directly at his orange goggles. Luckily, Mello was far too busy scowling at his apparent losing streak to notice the action.

Obviously, the card game was part of Near's plan. As Matt was responsible for telling the other boy to confess his feelings in the first place, this boredom was evidently his karmic retribution. Hopefully, Near had also planned for the game to be over in a relatively brief time, otherwise he really would have to go somewhere else. Watching two people play cards was an incredibly unrewarding experience.

Mello had now taken the lead; Near had lost three straight wars, surrendering all of his aces in the process. Mello grinned as the white-haired boy slowly started to hemorrhage cards from his deck; first the weaker values like two and four, and then the valuable kings and jacks.

After ten more silent minutes, Near was down to only three cards. Having orchestrated this entire game, he knew that his five, jack, and nine would all be taken by his opponent. Indeed, Mello's next three cards easily won over Near's. As the blonde's queen defeated the lone nine, Mello smirked.

"It looks as though you've lost to me for a change, Near. Now, what could you possibly have to tell me that I would find interesting?"

Matt suddenly realized exactly what was going on. His head snapped up. "I have to take a piss!"

Both Near and Mello stared at him strangely. Lamely, he continued, "Guess I'll go…piss…yeah, see you in a minute…" He pushed the now-cold mocha towards Mello and ran off to the restrooms.

After an awkward silence, Mello regained the thread of conversation. "So, secrets. I doubt you have any particularly good ones, but do try to pick the most embarrassing."

Near scowled imperceptibly, gathering the cards from the table and reshuffling them carefully. After they had been tapped down to a perfect rectangle, they slid back into his pristine white pocket.

"You have a taste for cruelty, Mello," he commented, taking a sip of the water Matt had so thoughtfully provided him with. It washed down his dry throat, relieving some of the tension that came with confessing one of his most humiliating secrets.

Mello was unruffled by Near's snide comment, too smug in his victory to be irritated by the white-haired boy's customary attitude. "Come on, Near. If you don't tell me something, I'm going to have to think of some other way to claim my victory." The blonde flinched, hoping that Near was too naïve to pick up on any sexual undertones in that statement. The innuendo _certainly _wasn't intentional, but quite undeniably present nonetheless.

Happily, Near didn't seem to notice anything unusual. Instead, he simply took another sip of water and curled pale fingers into his untidy white hair, looking quite serious.

"I do have something that I think will satisfy you, Mello," he said quietly. Mentally, he had begun to calculate the easiest escape route should Mello react badly. They were sitting quite close to the door, and if that wasn't an option the windows appeared to unlatch…

Mello shook him out of his slightly paranoid thoughts. "Hurry up with it.. All the dramatic pauses are pissing me off."

"Mello…." Near began, swallowing anxiously but keeping the anticipation from showing on his face. "My confession…is that…"

Mello stared at him, blue eyes narrow but attentive. Tanned fingers drummed a tattoo on one jean-clad knee, observing the white-haired boy for any trace of falsehood. There was none.

"I…have what might be described as 'romantic' feelings towards you, Mello. They have been plaguing me for quite some time, and quite frankly…it's a relief to finally confess." Near tensed, waiting for the inevitable explosion.

Mello performed the rather admirable feat of choking on thin air. As Near watched nervously, the blonde boy doubled over and coughed until he regained his voice.

"You…what the HELL?" he sputtered, eyes watering.

"I told you, I am attracted to you," Near retorted, unsurprised at this reaction.

"…what the Hell?…" Mello repeated, looking entirely bemused. "Are you fucking with me? Because you damn well better be, Near."

"I am not…'fucking' with you, Mello. I've been quite truthful."

The blonde stared at his rival, features finally assuming the anticipated expression of anger.

"So, what? You've been a bastard all these years because you…heh…LIKE me? Seriously, Near? Is this supposed to make me not hate you, this stupid confession?" Light dawned in those blue eyes as Mello's considerable brain made a connection. "You rigged that damn card game, didn't you? You _wanted _to tell me."

"I…" Near's eyes flickered to the escape routes, but they failed to reassure him adequately. "Matt told me to do it," he concluded, the ages-old instinct of placing the blame onto someone else kicking in.

Mello looked quite furious now. "Matt? My _boyfriend _wanted you to tell me what, that you think I'm hot? You think I fucking believe that?"

"Really, Mello, not everything requires profanity…" Near murmured, stopping when Mello's vitriolic gaze beamed onto him. He changed tactics. "Again, I'm telling the truth. You may even ask Matt for yourself."

Matt, when he returned to the table, immediately sensed that the crisis had not been averted. Both Mello and Near were staring at him in a seriously disturbing manner, and he briefly considered running back to the bathroom.

"Matt," Mello said flatly, casting another burning glare at Near. "Did you seriously tell Near that he should tell me how he felt?"

"I, uh…yes?" Matt offered, his eyes flickering to the door.

"Why?" Mello snarled, refusing to even acknowledge the white-haired boy watching the proceedings with a faint look of misery. "Great boyfriend, you are."

"God, Mello, you do realize I don't actually _want _to be your boyfriend?"

The blonde blinked. "You don't?"

"No!"

"Oh," Mello said, irritated. "You couldn't have mentioned that before, idiot?"

"I did…" Matt said, pressing a palm to his temple and vaguely hoping for an aneurysm. "Just…never mind. Look, about Near…"

Mello snorted. "Yeah, about Near. Look, do you really think that just because he's decided I'm pretty, I'm going to stop _hating _him?"

Sighing, Near restrained himself from mentioning that yes, that had been one of his hopes. But of course, Mello had to be his difficult self and continue to stress their "rivalry."

Matt searched around for a reply. "Well…I mean, do you remember when we were little, and you'd show someone you liked them by hitting them, stealing their stuff, that sort of thing?"

Mello scowled. "You're saying that a lifetime of Near acting like a superior bastard is just due to some sort of schoolgirl crush?"

"It is not a schoolgirl crush," Near retorted quietly, feeling that he should probably step in to defend himself at some point. Mello ignored him.

"Look, I'd _prefer _it if all you did was pinch me and steal my pencil case. But honestly, I'm not going to forgive you for any of those nasty little speeches or smug grins just because you _like _me. I still hate you, Near. So please, just fuck off."

Near winced, wondering if rectifying this situation was now completely impossible. "I assure you, Mello, I never really intended to make you feel inferior to me…" This was a lie, of course, but Matt had been right. Irritating Mello was a guaranteed way to get the blonde's attention, and Near found himself employing this tactic quite frequently.

Mello wasn't having any of it. "Near, if I believed that, I sure as hell wouldn't be smart enough for Wammy's. I don't care if you _intended _to shower me with puppies and goddamned rainbows, I'm not interested. Emphatically."

Near was finally silent, his mind furiously working. This had really, really not gone well. There was a high chance that Mello would now hate him even more than he had previously, in fact.

Matt took a seat at the left edge of the table, casting tentative glances between the two silent boys. Mello was still glaring, his breath heavy and angry. Spotting the mocha near his elbow, the blond grabbed the Styrofoam cup with a swift movement and took a deep gulp of the chilly liquid.

He paused, the cup still tilted as his throat worked furiously.

"Why the _Hell_ is there paper in my drink!?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

A/N: Well, that was fun, huh? Now, I had the boys play War in a very specific way to ensure that Near would be able to count the cards properly…you might shuffle your deck when you play, but I actually did field research for this one. Of all the people I played War with (about five) none of them shuffled, instead choosing only to flip their cards over after each round. So, I assume that Mello and Near would play in the same manner. Dig?

Thanks for reading! As always, I enjoy your feedback, and just talking to you cool people in general!

Next chapter is in the relatively-near future.


	9. Different Drum

**Here we are…the penultimate chapter! I finished this up after a long bike ride, which gave me some time to both plot out the details AND narrowly escape being run down by SUVs about six times. (lesson: don't bike and think)**

**So anyway, there's only one more chapter left! I promise to start writing that in short order, so I won't leave you hanging again. Heh.**

**Thank you all so much for sticking with me until nearly the very end! I'm flattered by all the reviews, faves and alerts I am now receiving regularly and I'd just like to say that as far as readers go, you're the best a girl could hope for. **

**Always remember to REVIEW. If you do, you'll have emotional A/Ns like the one above dedicated to you. :D**

**Disclaimer: I not be owning any notes of death.**

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Three days after Near's confession, the Wammy House had become a battlefield. Not in the literal sense, of course; there were no corpses littered across the floor or snipers shooting from the windows. No carnage had taken place, but every child in the orphanage could sense the tension that sizzled between a certain pair of teenaged boys.

In those three days, exactly one sentence had been exchanged between Mello and Near. In fact, it wasn't even a full sentence. Near had found the blonde in the playroom, and tentatively approaching the other boy, he had murmured, "Mello—"

After a brief and one-sided struggle, he then found himself staring at the inside of a closet door and listening to the "click" that signaled a lock being turned. Several hours later, he was found by the cleaning staff, who received no answers to their frantic questions about his well-being.

This had occurred on the second day. Currently, the two boys were sitting at opposite ends of the dining room, Near with Linda and Mello with Matt at his side.

"—and so, really, it's not even worth using the 6B pencil with that sort of paper because the lead's going to smear, right?" Linda nudged her silent companion in the side, her other arm occupied with a detailed sketch of Near's untouched bowl of cereal.

Near nodded, but otherwise gave no response to Linda's words. She scowled, turning to look at the pale boy. "Near. Are you listening?"

"No," he admitted without a trace of guilt. His dark gaze was fixed upon a blonde head in the distance, the same blonde head that he had been staring at for the past few days. Mello was pouring milk into his third bowl of chocolate cereal, watching intently as the liquid took on an unappetizing brown color. Matt was buttering a piece of toast, observing the milk's horrifying transformation with a bored gaze. Sensing Near's eyes on him, he looked up, gracing Near with what might have been an apologetic expression. It turned to a smirk and raised eyebrows when he saw Linda seated next to the other boy.

Near kept on staring, until he was once more rudely interrupted by an elbow to the ribs. He silently noted that the bruise located there was now likely to be a slightly darker purple than it had been an hour ago.

"Near. Couldn't you at least _pretend _to be interested when I'm talking to you?"

"No," he replied, not even bothering to make eye contact with his companion. "It was entirely your choice to sit next to me. I am sure there are many other people in this room who would be glad to converse with you."

"Uh-huh," Linda muttered, finishing her drawing and flipping to the next page in the sketchbook. "So, how many pieces of cereal does Mello have in his bowl right now?"

"One hundred and twenty-three," Near replied. Mello enthusiastically downed a spoonful of cereal, causing the other boy to add, "One hundred and twelve, now…"

"I thought so," Linda said gloomily, sketching the outline of what looked to be a picture of Roger in a rather impractical frock. "He locked you in a closet, you know," she added, hooking the edge of Near's cereal bowl with her right hand and pulling it towards herself.

"I do realize that, yes," Near responded, not even acknowledging the theft of his breakfast. "That was my own fault. The approach was…faulty. I will not repeat it in the future, do not concern yourself."

"Faulty? What…you're not going to try again, are you?" Linda asked, eyes wide.

"Certainly I will. It seems foolish to accept defeat so quickly, especially now that I've had the chance to reconsider my tactics." Near smirked, his eyes regaining the familiar smug look. "I am sure that I can persuade Mello to listen to me."

Linda sighed and stood up, her sketchbook tucked securely under one arm. "Um…good luck, I guess. Look, I've got to get to class…bye." She dashed off, leaving Near to stare at the two empty cereal bowls on the table.

He found Linda's excuse highly doubtful, as classes did not start for another half-hour. It seemed that even Linda, who usually persisted in hovering around Near, had finally been put off by his eccentricities.

Really, he was grateful. Linda's advice had been less than helpful, and her chatter was a needless distraction from his newest plan.

Near shifted a bit and leaned forward to grab his half-finished glass of milk, taking a contemplative sip as his eyes once more veered towards the other side of the room. Mello, it seemed, had wolfed down his third bowl of cereal in record time and was now standing up from the table. Noticing that Matt was still seated, Mello reached down and flicked the side of the ginger's head with long fingers. Matt scowled, but nevertheless stood up as well.

If things were to proceed as they usually did, Mello and Matt would now go loiter in the game room until the first classes began. Or rather, they would stay there until slightly _after _the first classes started, as Mello preferred a fashionably late arrival.

The temptation to simply follow them to the game room and stage the confrontation there was difficult to resist. However, evidence suggested that the game room would be one of the worst places to corner Mello.

After being locked in a closet once, Near was not particularly eager to repeat the experience. Accordingly, he had spent all of yesterday with the schematics of the entire Wammy's House. Roger, feeling that a bit of indulgence in the orphanage's most gifted child could hardly be a bad thing, had handed over the plans with a wink and a smile.

There were closets everywhere, Near had discovered. All of them locked. In addition, there were no less than seventeen other small rooms, abandoned spaces, and large apertures where Near could possibly find himself concealed if things went wrong.

Witnesses were another matter. In all of their time at Wammy's House, Mello had never gone quite so far as to cause lasting physical harm to his rival. Near had been tripped, had his chair "accidentally" ran into, and his shower rigged to dispense alternate intervals of freezing cold and scalding water, but Mello had never actually ventured as far as to punch, kick, or even pull the hair of the younger boy.

Of course, all of that might be for naught if Mello got angry enough at him. Judging from the blonde's previous reactions to Near's affection, it was very likely that if Near approached Mello in a peaceful, private place, something bad would happen. Bad, in this case, meaning something along the lines of "do you remember what shape your nose _used _to be?" bad.

So, witnesses. Surely, if he found Mello when they were still surrounded by their peers, the blonde would have at least some motivation to not commit blatant bodily assault. Also, as quite a few of the children in the House were practiced snitches, they would run to report it immediately if Near happened to find himself stuffed in another closet.

Unfortunately, there were very few options for the perfect place in which to corner Mello. None of the classrooms were suitable, as the teachers would immediately break up any confrontation between their students during class time. Loitering in the classrooms afterwards was also unacceptable, as then they would be both isolated and within twenty feet of a closet.

The bathrooms did not contain closets, but Near had no urge to have his head stuffed down a toilet. Such a thing had not happened at the Wammy House for quite some time, but Mello was always willing to bend the rules in particular circumstances.

Neither Near nor Mello's room would be suitable either. In fact, they were the textbook examples of where _not _to meet, as both confined, solitary spaces and rooms containing closets.

Near might have been taking the closet paranoia just a bit too far, but after spending hours in one he felt quite justified in never, ever wanting to do it again. So, no closets.

Really, the only place left for him to confront Mello was outdoors. If the typical Wammy's House pattern continued, there would be a football game out on the front lawn today. In this situation, there was a very small chance of Mello being able to either run away or take out any of his aggressions physically.

Of course, this meant that Near would have to go outside. What's more, he'd have to go outside, _into the midst of a game of football. _It wasn't as bad as actually having to play the sport, but the pale boy was unwilling to step out of Wammy's on the best of days.

There were roughly three hours until the game of football would commence; Wammy's House had a break at eleven-thirty when the students could eat lunch, study, or amuse themselves with violent sports. Near usually spent this time in the library, constructing elaborate towers of books and reading up on the history of philosophy. Mello, in accordance with his aggressive personality, devoted the entire hour to sports and covert chocolate-eating.

The dining hall of Wammy's suddenly reverberated with the bell that signaled the end of breakfast. Unlike many schools, the bell they used was a real one, a relic from the old church that used to occupy the land. While most of the church had been demolished and the orphanage built on the grounds, the bell tower had remained as part of the chapel where the Wammy children occasionally found themselves sequestered.

The loudly chattering students filed out into the hallways, heading for the most part back to their rooms. The thirty minutes in between breakfast and the first class were intended to give the children time to shower, get dressed, and complete any unfinished homework, but they were far more frequently used for sleep.

Near stood up from the table, following the last of the dining hall occupants out of the dark double doors. As he passed the table by the exit, he left his empty bowl and glass amidst the pile of dirty crockery already formed by the other orphans.

The white-haired boy turned to the left as soon as he cleared the doors, heading towards the nearest communal bathroom. Being a person who appreciated routine, Near made it a habit to take his daily shower right after breakfast.

After a brief walk, he reached the large room that housed most of the Wammy House's showers and bathtubs. Pushing open the door, he headed towards the farthest corner of the room and secured an unoccupied shower cubicle. Having brought the necessary clothes and toiletries with him in a typically white bag, he set this bag on the provided bench and quickly went about the business of shedding his clothing and stepping under the hot spray.

Several minutes later, the water hissed off and Near emerged from the shower, toweling off the white hair that absorbed far more moisture than was really convenient. Locating his bag, he dressed slowly but efficiently, the white socks being pulled on as a finishing touch to the outfit.

The shampoo, dirty clothes, and towel were placed neatly back into the bag. Quietly opening the door to the cubicle, Near was met with the sight of Matt cheerfully brushing his teeth at one of the sinks.

Hearing the soft creak of the door, Matt turned around and smiled at the younger boy, the foaming toothpaste in his mouth giving him a rather alarming appearance. Near nodded at him, pulling out his own toothbrush and joining the ginger at the sinks.

"So," Matt mumbled around his toothbrush, "what are you planning?"

Near paused in the act of putting the perfect dollop of toothpaste on the brush, turning to look at the tall boy with a blank expression.

"Planning?" he asked coolly, as Matt leaned down to spit spectacularly into the basin. "What do you mean by that?"

Matt snorted, inadvertently sucking a bit of toothpaste into his nostrils. After a painful sneeze, he resumed his composure. "About Mello, obviously. You haven't given up, have you? You're still staring at him pretty much every opportunity you get."

"Ah," Near replied, finally putting toothbrush to mouth. "I do, in fact, have a plan. I don't suppose that you'd be interested in assisting me, Matt?"

"Well, I'd expect you'd have to actually tell me the plan first," the redhead responded, hoisting his narrow body onto the sink counter and swinging his legs idly. He brought a thin hand to his face, wiping off the now-dry toothpaste still clinging to the corners of his mouth.

Near frowned slightly, then turned to face the other. "I'm afraid that it is not one my more elaborate plans, but I think that it will be sufficiently successful. Really, it's just a matter of appealing to Mello's personality."

"Yeah, you tried that," Matt commented. "Didn't work out so brilliantly, remember?"

Near sighed, leaning down for one last spit into the sink before rinsing off his toothbrush. Breaking eye contact with Matt, he nevertheless replied, "I've changed my tactics somewhat. You might say that this approach involves less of a change in my own habits, and more of a directly emotional tactic."

"So…are you going to cry?" Matt asked, smirking. Near, to his credit, realized that this was intended to be a teasing tone, and forbore to reply angrily. Instead, he ignored the jibe and continued.

"I do not necessarily require your assistance this time, Matt, but it would be quite useful. A person to make sure that Mello is in the correct place at the correct time would be excellent, and you seem the most likely candidate."

"That's not enough info," Matt retorted. "C'mon, tell me what you're going to say. It's only fair, because if this thing goes wrong, I want to know exactly how far I should run in the other direction."

Near reached into his bag once more to retrieve a bottle of blue mouthwash. "I am going to hold a civil conversation with Mello, during which I shall attempt to convince him that he should entertain the idea of indulging my attraction." Having apparently filled his eloquence quota for the day, Near tossed back a capful of mouthwash and began to swish the substance about vigorously.

"Great," Matt replied, staring at his own toes with deep interest. "Is there more than, say, a ninety percent chance of you pissing him off so badly that he decides to take out his anger on the nearest bystander?"

"I'm fairly certain that it's unlikely," Near assured him, his enunciation somewhat diminished by the burning alcohol still occupying his mouth.

Matt sighed, hopping down off of the counter. "Fine, I'll help you, even though I still have no idea of what you're going to say to convince Mello of _anything. _Where and when do you need him?"

Near leaned down and spat out the mouthwash, breathing a sigh of relief. "Eleven-thirty, and playing football with the others on the front lawn. Do what you can to dissuade him from any other course of action."

"Alright," Matt responded, walking towards the door. "As long as it stops his never-ending tirades against you, I'm in. Just…don't piss him off too badly, eh?"

Near nodded, watching the door swing shut as Matt left the restroom.

XXXXXXXXX

"GODDAMNIT, Mello!" a dark-haired boy shouted, rubbing the quickly-reddening spot on his arm where the ball had smacked into him. "Could you just aim for the goal, asshole?"

Mello gave no response, the smirk on his face speaking for him. As the other boy continued to clutch at his sore arm and mutter profanities, he walked away, waiting for the game to resume.

The blonde looked over his left shoulder, confirming that Matt was where he was supposed to be. The ginger was sitting underneath a large tree at the lawn's perimeter, his attention entirely fixated upon whatever madly-beeping game he had managed to procure this time.

Mello whistled loudly at him, then gestured rudely at the gamer as soon as eye contact was achieved. It was a sign of their friendship that Matt, instead of taking offense, paused his game and returned the gesture with both hands and three times the enthusiasm. Mello grinned, turning back to the field.

His good mood was immediately ruined when he spotted the awkward figure making its way towards him. With the glaringly white clothes and wobbly stride, it could really only be one person.

Mello briefly considered darting back inside, knowing that he could outrun Near with minimal effort. However, he rejected this cowardly idea in favor of first listening to Near, and then possibly beating the ever-loving crap out of him.

Near gradually approached the blonde, who had assumed the wide-legged, hands-on-hips stance that never boded well for his enemies. "Near," he acknowledged, voice cold.

Near nodded to him in turn, shifting uncomfortably at being outside in the sun. "I want to speak with you, Mello. I apologize for confronting you in such an unusual place, but in all honesty I wish to avoid small, enclosed spaces."

Mello stared as his rival, noticing with some disdain that the pale boy had neglected to even put on shoes for his trek outside. The damp grass was saturating his socks rapidly, but Near appeared not to notice.

"Fine. What the hell do you want to say?" the blonde asked, tapping his own bare foot against the ground.

Near stooped his shoulders, grabbing a lock of hair and twisting it between nervous fingers. "I realize that I may have inadvertently caused you a great deal of anger three days ago. That was…unfortunate, but certainly unintentional. It seems that you regard my affection as…a ploy, perhaps, or at the best an insensitive and self-absorbed attraction formulated only to irritate you. However, neither of these theories are at all true."

Mello scowled. "Look, freak. I'm not interested. If you have a crush on me, too bad. It's your own damn fault that you don't have a chance in hell with me. Maybe you should have focused a bit less on embarrassing me at every damn turn for the past decade, did you ever think of that?"

Near looked at him, his expression causing the other to fall silent. There was a strange yet inoffensive look in the pale boy's eyes, something difficult to identify.

Stepping closer to the blonde, Near took a deep breath.

"You see, Mello, that's the very thing. You've _won._"

"What?" Mello asked sharply, not quite comprehending the statement. Near smiled, for once managing to get the expression right.

"You've won. This time, you've finally beaten me." Seeing Mello's face, Near continued.

"It is not as though I particularly wanted to experience these feelings of adolescent attraction, and certainly not towards my own gender. I was quite content to see you as simply a respected rival, until this affection for you began to manifest itself."

Mello's eyes widened slightly as he began to understand, and he unconsciously leaned closer to his rival to hear the pale boy's quiet words. "So?…" he asked, prompting Near to continue.

"For a long period of time, I attempted to ignore my attraction towards you, Mello. I focused firmly on my studies and hobbies, assuming that I would be able to overcome your latest challenge as I had so many times in the past. Unfortunately, this has proven impossible."

Taking one more shuffling step towards the blonde, Near spoke the last sentences, the ones he desperately hoped would sway the other boy. "I tried to defeat you once again, by denying my feelings for you. I was not capable of doing this. Therefore, Mello, you have won. I am no better than you. We are…simply equals." Near finished his speech quietly, an uncomfortable feeling creeping into his chest. He still did not understand why people chose to reveal their emotions so frequently; this far, it had proven only to be an exercise in embarrassment.

Mello was silent for a moment, light eyes wide as his sharp mind processed Near's argument. Then, he grinned. It was terrifying.

"I won, huh?" he asked, eyes gleaming. Near nodded, unable to predict the other boy's next reaction.

He then choked, a perfectly natural reaction to suddenly having a tongue shoved into your mouth. _Oh. He is kissing me? That…was rather easy, _Near reflected.

Deciding that the sensation of having his ribs crushed in a passionate manner by Mello was actually quite worth the trouble, Near returned the kiss to the best of his ability. This was not saying very much.

To the utter bemusement of everyone else in eyesight, Mello and Near remained locked together for precisely thirty-two seconds, the kiss ending with a soft smacking noise and a judicious arse-grope from Mello.

Matt, having diverted his attention from Mario, whistled loudly. He was ignored.

"So…" Mello said, leaning back and looking Near in the eyes.

"Eggh?" Near replied, then swallowed heavily. "Or rather, what?"

"We're even now, eh?" the blonde murmured, cranking his seductive gaze up to eleven. Near nodded, not trusting his vocal cords very much at the moment.

"Even…" the blonde mused, tilting his head. "Well, I suppose it can't hurt to give your sad arse a chance, then."

Near nodded again, deciding to ignore the derogatory terms and focus on the promising aspects of the statement. "You wish to start a relationship?"

"Hmmm," Mello said, putting on an exaggeratedly thoughtful expression. "I suppose so. After all, I think I need to demonstrate some of the _other _areas in which I am superior to you."

Once more, Near nodded. It seemed to be the only thing he was capable of at the moment.

"Now come on, the bell is ringing," Mello said, abruptly regaining his usual demeanor. Turning around, he began to walk towards the orphanage.

Seeing that Near was still stationary, he stopped and beckoned impatiently. "Are you just going to stand here staring at my arse all day? Let's go, already!" Striding backwards, Mello grabbed a long-sleeved white arm and towed Near with him towards the open doors of the building.

"You want me to follow you?" Near asked, slightly alarmed.

"Obviously," Mello retorted.

As he was dragged in a surprisingly gentle manner towards his next class, Near realized something. Although the blonde's manner was typically surly, the knowledge that Mello wanted his company was strangely comforting.

XXXXXXXXXXX

**A/N: Well! What did you think of that? I got stuck a few times in this chapter, but towards the end I was hit in the head by my Muse (metaphorically speaking) and I started to write like mad. I think I'm pretty pleased with the results. You?**

**Hope to see you next chapter! I won't leave you waiting for too long, as it should be fairly easy to write. It'll be more of an epilogue than anything else, in fact…**

**Oh, and guess what! I'm going to be starting another M/N multichaptered fic after this one ends. It will be an AU, but with many elements from the original DN plot just twisted up a bit. I'll be focusing a bit less on the humor and more on the plot, but not to a drastic degree. I think that I'm going to have a lot of fun with this one, if my inspiration sticks around. **

**So, if you're interested, be on the lookout for it. It should be posted within a month of IAWL's ending, probably less than that. **

**Thanks for reading. I'll see you next chapter, my friends!**


	10. Modern Love

**So! Er…look, I'm really terribly sorry for the lateness of this final chapter. I know I may have alluded that (alright, **_**promised) **_**this chapter would be out by the end of April, but my life has been full of life-type stuff. Not bad stuff—I've been accepted to a program for gifted twits and I've cut all of my hair off and dyed it green, which is groovy—but it's stuff that takes up a lot of my time, ken? Anyway, that's no bloody excuse, and I apologize. I do thank you for staying around this long, and I'm glad to see this fic off with all of you!**

**I like REVIEWS. A lot, especially as this is the last you will see of IAWL.**

**Disclaimer: Death Note ain't mine, but this land is your land. **

**XXXXXX**

As the door to Primrose Confections was slammed open, the cheery little bell attached to the handle attempted to jingle itself to death.

Mello strode inside, glancing over the shelves of candy with a proprietary air. Several seconds later, Near quietly pushed the door open again and came to stand beside the blond.

"Hey, Janet," Mello barked at the worker behind the counter. Near noted that it was the same jovial old woman whom he had met upon his last visit.

Jane surveyed her newest customers. "Mello, you really should learn how to address your elders properly," she scolded. Then her gaze lit upon Near.

"Well hello there, dear! Nice to see you back here again. How did that business with the girl go?" she asked, immediately resuming her twinkling façade. Near shrugged.

"It went…satisfactorily."

"I'm not a—" Mello started furiously, then bit back his retort. "Look, Janet. Can we get some, let's see…" A tattered list was fished out of a black pocket. "Some chocolate covered pretzels, some of those chocolate-ginger candies, some Green and Black bars (dark), a couple of those peanuty cluster things, and finally some peppermint for this twit." The last was, unsurprisingly, punctuated with a gesture at Near.

Far from being offended, the smaller boy just wondered how on earth Mello managed to pronounce a parentheses.

"That's a tall order," Janet said, once more leveling a frightening gaze at Mello's smirking head. "You have the money for all of that, Mello?"

The list was exchanged for an equally-tattered handful of cash, some of it of rather dubious provenance. Mello grinned. "Yup. Hand it over."

Sighing in irritation, the plump old woman bent to slide open the doors of the display case. "You know where the chocolate bars are, you little bugger. I'll get you the rest of it." A large bag was produced from under the counter, and the woman proceeded to pick up several pieces of each candy and place them neatly in the bag.

Mello wandered away to browse through the chocolate bars, and Near stood uncomfortably before the counter. The multicolored displays of chocolate and shiny jellybeans failed to tempt him in the least, and he wished that Mello could frequent a shop that wasn't so…shiny.

"Here you are, love!" the woman declared, apparently speaking to Near. She handed him a small, separate bag filled with peppermint candies.

"Thank you," he murmured. Mello drew up beside him.

"Alright, here's the bars. you got the rest?"

"Mm-_hmm,_" the shopkeeper replied in a rather venomous tone. "Now, let's see some payment first."

"How much?"

"Twenty."

Scowling, Mello counted out two limp bills and pushed them across the counter.

"Thank you very much!" the woman replied perkily, placing the bag into Mello's hands. "Feel free to stay away for as long as you like!"

"Yeah, yeah…come on, Near, let's get out of this place."

Near thankfully followed Mello out of the shop, wincing slightly as Janet winked at him.

"Got your peppermints?" Mello asked absently as they emerged into the late afternoon sunlight. Near nodded, holding the white bag up in confirmation.

"Good. Now, come on."

"Where are we going, precisely?" Near inquired, once more trailing after Mello as the blonde darted across the street (in blatant violation of several traffic laws) and headed to the left.

"The park," Mello replied, walking at a brisk pace and casting glares at any pedestrian who dared to meet his eyes. Near followed, his steps awkward as the unfamiliar sneakers dug red lines into his ankles.

"Yes, and why are we going to the park?" Near persisted, shuffling a bit more quickly to catch up with Mello. Casting a glance at the slower boy, Mello snorted and grabbed Near's arm.

"What wrong with going to the park? I should think it's a bloody nice place to go."

"I'm sure it is. However, is there a particular meaning in this destination?" Near asked patiently, popping a peppermint into his rather dry mouth.

"I—look, you'll see when we get there. And it's going to take forever to do even that if you keep prattling on like this…"

"I have spoken exactly four sentences, Mello," Near commented. He was ignored, although the hand on his arm slid forward until Mello's elbow was linked with Near's. _Uncharacteristic, but not entirely unexpected, _Near noted.

After a period of walking (interspersed with the occasional unwilling dash across an intersection) Mello and Near reached the grassy strip of land that counted as Winchester's "park."

Ignoring the cheerful couples and sketchy joggers milling about the central area, Mello kept walking until an unoccupied park bench was located. He sat down abruptly, his still-linked elbow dragging Near down as well. The white-haired boy quickly drew a knee up to his chest, uncomfortable in any other position.

"So," Mello said. "We're here."

"…yes. We are indeed." Mello immediately searched his companion's face for any signs of sarcasm, but the large eyes remained innocent and unreadable.

"…Give me a peppermint," Mello demanded, holding out one slim hand. Near complied, and the small candy was tossed into Mello's waiting mouth.

_Crunch, crunch, crunch. _ Near hated it when people insisted upon chewing hard candies.

"You were going to tell me why we are here, correct?" Near asked, when Mello showed no signs of speaking again.

"What, you haven't figured it out?"

"Not in the least," Near confessed, hands darting to his hair. "An explanation would be greatly appreciated."

Mello sighed deeply, tilting his head back and concealing the rolling of his eyes behind closed lids. "Well, what do you see here?"

Near pursed his lips. "Trees. Benches. A vagrant—" The hobo camped out on the grass several yards away waved cheerily. "—several discarded bottles, the sky—"

"There!" Mello interrupted.

"The sky?"

Another sigh flopped heavily out of Mello's thin frame. "What is the sky doing?" he asked, in a tone that Near was quite sure qualified as patronizing.

"Currently? It is turning a slight reddish color—possibly some permutation of vermilion—and is now suffused with a yellow tint towards the horizon."

"And that's called?" Mello prompted, giving Near a flat stare.

"The sun is setting. Or rather, the Earth's orbit has drawn us away fro—"

"The sunset, Near! The sunset! That's what we're focusing on, here."

"We're…watching the sunset?" Near ventured, quite frankly amazed that Mello would be possessed to do such a peaceful thing.

"Well…yeah," Mello muttered.

"How romantic," Near said lightly, a smirk creeping over his face when Mello flushed angrily.

"It doesn't have to be romantic, you git! It's just…it's a bloody good sunset, alright!"

"I suppose that it is rather fetching, as far as sunsets go," Near replied.

"Fine!" Mello barked.

For once, Near was lost for words. "…hmmm?"

"Fine! It's a…a date, alright? We're on a damned date, get over yourself!"

"Ah…okay," Near said, nonplussed.

"Look, Near," Mello said sharply, turning to face the pale boy. "This doesn't mean that I, that I _like _you or some mad thing like that. You're my rival, a nasty little bugger, and you kind of look like a sheep. I mean, I suppose I'm a bit attracted to you, and you're intelligent—too damned intelligent—and you've been acting decent enough these past few days…" Mello trailed off. Near, rather bemused by the outburst, waited for the speech to conclude.

"And so, eh…whatever," Mello muttered, seizing Near's shoulders and bringing their mouths together in a violent maneuver that might just have been a kiss.

Yes, yes, it was definitely a kiss. Mello didn't beat people up with his tongue, after all.

Several passionate (and quite frankly slobbery) moments passed, and then Mello pulled away.

Near blinked. Mello coughed.

"Mello!" Near said in surprise, as the blonde boy leaned forward and clawed at his throat with both hands.

After a few desperate wheezes, something flew out of Mello's gasping mouth and landed with a sad "plop" in the grass nearby.

"Near…you bastard," Mello rasped.

"Mello?"

"I am never…" Mello stopped to let out a harsh breath, then resumed. Near stared rather anxiously at the other boy's purple-tinted features.

"I am never buying you peppermints again!"

**XXXXXXX**

**A/N: Now, this chapter gave me hell. I had a serious case of writer's block, and there are no less than five entirely different drafts of it littered across my desktop. However, this is not to say that I'm not entirely satisfied with this version. It's short, I know, but it's…sweet? As sweet as this fic can get! I wrote it in about two days, and I'm quite happy with it. I hope that you enjoyed it as well!**

**It's gonna be sad to leave this fic, but we've had our fun. My new Mello/Near fic (as yet untitled) actually should be up reasonably soon. I was going to wait and post both this and that fic at the same time, but I thought that such a thing would just be cruel at this point. :P**

**Thank you guys so, so much for all the positive feedback and helpful reviews. I hope to hear from you again on my next project! And sorry for the really long A/N! Se quiero Uds.!!**


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